[Page  145 
"MISS    MARY    DRESSED    IN    SEVERELY    CLASSIC    DRAPERIES.' 


OUT     OF     TOWN 


WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS   BY 


ROSINA  EMMET  SHERWOOD 


NEW    YORK 

HARPER   &    BROTHERS    PUBLISHERS 
1896 


Copyright,  1896,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 


All  rights  reserved. 


\ I  Question  cf  Iden 
A  Little  Music. 

e  Railroad  Humorist 
Momenh  wit-h  Mechanics 
Village  Theatricals. 

The  Professor. 
The  Lawn-Tennis  Mahch. 
The  Naphtha  Launch. 
The  Wedding 


2228401 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

"MISS  MARY  DRESSED  IN  SEVERELY  CLASSIC  DRA- 
PERIES " Frontispiece 

"'HOW  DO  YOU  LIKE  THE  CENTRE-STREET  WHEEL- 
MEN ?'  " 7 

MRS.  EDWARD   MILLER   AND  THE   TWO    CHILDREN.      .  13 

"  HARFORD     REACHED     HIS     CLUB     IN    A    VERY    BAD 

HUMOR" ig 

"SHE  ALWAYS  LIKED  THOSE  ROSES  " 23 

"  '  BENSON  ?     WHY,    MAN,    YOU'RE    LOSING    YOUR 

SENSES!'" 31 

"A  CHANCE  TO  HANDLE  A  BOAT" 35 

"A  LITTLE  EXERCISE  AT  TENNIS " 39 

UNCLE  CHAD 43 

"TO  ASK  IF  HE  HAD  ENJOYED  HIS  '  DRAHVE '  ".     .  49 

"THE  COUSINS  ALL  ECHOED,  'SING  AGAIN!'"     .     .  53 

MR.  T.  S.  JOHNSTONE  LEIGH 57 

"SHE  SEEMED  SO  LOVELY  AND  GRACIOUS"    .     .     .  6l 

OUR  FRIEND  HARFORD 69 

"SMITH  WAS  ADVERTISING  FOR  THAT  OLD  TOMATO- 
CAN"  73 

"HARFORD  MADE  EVERY  EFFORT  TO  MAINTAIN  A 

DIGNIFIED  UNCONCERN  " 77 

"UNCLE  CHAD,  IRRITABLY  SHOUTING  'WH-A-T?'"  .  87 

"MILLER  is  A  CONVENTIONAL  SUBURBAN".    ...  93 

"  'HOW    DOES   THEM   STUDS   RUN?"'.                                  .  IOI 


V1H 

PAGE 
"MISS    MARY   SEWED   THE    CURTAINS    FOR    THE    NEW 

WINDOW  " 105 

"MILLER  WAS  PAINED  TO  OBSERVE  SUPPRESSED  TIT- 
TERING"  121 

CAPTAIN  JOHN  SMITH 125 

"TWO  WOODLAND  SPRITES  ARE  WE" I2g 

"ASKED  HIM  IF  HE  WASN'T  ASHAMED  OF  HIMSELF 

TO  BE  so  HANDSOME" 135 

"MISS  MARY  LEANED  BACK  EXHAUSTED  AMONG  THE 

SOFA  CUSHIONS" 147 

"DEEPLY  INTERESTED  IN  HER  SKETCH"    .     .     .     .153 
"PROFESSOR  JUDD  WAS  TRYING  TO  HYPNOTIZE  MISS 

MARY" 159 

"WATCHING  THE  GAME  WITH  INTENSE  INTEREST".  171 

LAWN-TENNIS 177 

"LEIGH  LIT  AN  AL  RASCHID  CIGARETTE".    .     .     .  183 

"DOWN  TO  THE  WHARF" IQ3 

"  '  ELLEN,  YOU  DON'T  MEAN  TO  SAY  THAT  YOU  HAVE 

PUT  JACK  IN  COTTON  STOCKINGS  !'  "  .  .  .  .  IQQ 
"  THE  LOVERS  SHOULD  HAVE  A  LITTLE  QUIET  TALK  "  2O7 
"MISS  MILLER  FOLLOWED  HIM  ABOUT  WITH  A  COLD 

AND  CRITICAL  EYE" 217 

THE  TOAST 221 

THE  BRIDE 225 

"MARY  SMILINGLY  AWAITED  HIM" 229 

"HARFORD  WAS  QUITE  SATISFIED" 233 


OUT   OF   TOWN 


I 

MR.  WILLIAM  HARFORD  (aet.  28). 
MR.  CLARENCE  H.  DE  VINNEY  (set.  24). 
Miss  MARY  BURNHAM  (set.  22). 
MR.  EDWARD  MILLER  (set.  42). 
MRS.  EDWARD  MILLER  (set.  35). 

SCENE. — The  drawing-room  of  a  com- 
fortable country  -  house  at  Starling 
Station,  forty-three  minutes  from  City 
Hall.  Easy-chairs,  tables  strewn  with 
magazines  and  illustrated  papers ;  nu- 
merous photographs  on  the  mantel. 
A  few  doubtful-looking  geraniums  in 
a  wooden  box  trying  to  struggle  into 
bloom  in  the  window.  Lamps  are 
lit,  a  wood  fire  burns  brightly  in  the 
open  fireplace,  and  a  general  atmos- 
phere of  good  cheer  prevails.  In  a 
card-receiver  are  two  or  three  very 


old  visiting-cards  on  which  the  chil- 
dren have  scribbled  pictures  of  pigs, 
a  back-number  time-table  of  the  C.  L. 
and  S.  L.  Railroad,  with  a  small  card 
of  the  Starling  Station  branch,  and  a 
list  of  the  meets  of  the  Lawn  Club 
drag-hunts. 

Harford  (solus)  is  rapt  in  contempla- 
tion of  a  photograph  of  Miss  Mary 
taken  in  the  costume  in  which  she  ap- 
peared as  Diana  at  Mrs.  Marsh's  tab- 
leaux. 

He  murmurs :  "  Out-of-the-way  place 
this !  Late  down  town  ;  no  dinner  to 
speak  of ;  of  course  no  stage  at  the  sta- 
tion, and  had  to  walk  two  miles  nearly, 
through  the  mud.  Never  mind !"  (Cau- 
tiously takes  the  photo  to  the  light  and 
examines  it  closely.)  "  How  lovely  she 
must  have  looked  !  What  a  fool  I  was 
not  to  go !  Her  head  is  awfully  well  put 


on.  Well,  American  girls  certainly — " 
(He  hears  the  rustle  of  a  dress  on  the 
stairs,  and  hastily  restores  the  photo- 
graph to  its  place.)  "  Now  if  I  could 
only  see  her  alone  for  a  little  while  !" 

Enter  Miss  Mary,  who  greets  him 
cordially,  but  with  a  slight  touch  of  ici- 
ness  in  her  manner. 

Miss  Mary.  "  So  very  nice  of  you  to 
come  out,  Mr.  Harford.  Edward  and 
my  sister  made  up  their  minds  to  have 
a  little  holiday,  after  being  shut  up  here 
all  this  long  cold  winter,  so  they  took 
all  the  children  into  town  for  the  circus. 
Dear  little  Jack  has  grown  to  be  such  a 
big  boy,  and  he  is  so  clever!"  ("  How 
adorable  she  is  with  children !"  thinks 
Harford.)  "  So  I  was  left  here  to  take 
care  of  Aunty  Wilson,  who  has  been 
laid  up  with  the  grippe,  and  to  guard 
the  house  against  burglars."  (She  laughs 


a  little,  and  the  young  man  expands  his 
chest  and  looks  as  if  he  would  like  to 
slay  the  burglar  who  dared.) 

Miss  Mary  goes  on :  "  And  do  you 
mean  to  tell  me  that  you  couldn't  find 
the  stage  to  bring  you  down  ?  That 
wretched  Brisbane  is  always  at  a  fire- 
man's parade,  or  a  barn  -  raising,  or 
something.  And  you  had  to  walk  all 
the  way  down  ?"  (She  melts  a  degree 
or  so,  but  refrigerates  again  as  Harford's 
expression  becomes  dangerously  rapt- 
urous.) 

Harford.  "  Yes,  I  walked  down,  but 
I  assure  you  it  was  a  lovely  evening, 
and—" 

Miss  Mary.  "  Well,  then  you  certain- 
ly need  a  good  cup  of  tea  or  something. 
Of  course ;  why  didn't  I  think  of  it  be- 
fore ?" 

She  runs  across  the  room  and  begins 


to  drag  a  tea-table  from  a  corner.  Har- 
ford  hastens  to  help  her,  when  steps  are 
heard  on  the  piazza  and  the  door-bell 
rings.  Miss  Mary  looks  anxious  for  a 
moment,  and  Harford  feels  an  insane 
hope  that  it  may  be  only  a  tramp  or  a 
burglar,  but  the  maid  enters,  announc- 
ing, "  Mr.  De  Vinney,  ma'am." 

Miss  Mary  (hastily,  to  Harford,  who 
is  glowering  at  the  door).  "  Mr.  De 
Vinney — excellent  young  man,  from  the 
village,  who  supports  his  mother  and 
sisters ;  keeps  a  little  shop — tidies,  cir- 
culating library,  and  all  that." 

De  Vinney  enters  —  tallish  young 
man ;  frock-coat,  rather  too  short ;  elec- 
tric-blue trousers,  a  shade  too  long*  He 
carries  in  his  right  hand  a  pair  of  very 
shiny  kid  gloves  and  a  light  rattan 
stick ;  in  his  left  a  soft  knockabout 
hat. 


10 


Miss  Mary,  after  shaking  hands,  intro- 
duces :  "  Mr.  Harford — Mr.  De  Vinney." 

Harford  grumbles  a  salutation. 

De  Vinney  (cheerfully  accurate).  "  I 
did  not  quite  catch  the  name  ?"  (in  the 
meantime  holding  Harford's  hand,  and 
turning  his  head  towards  Miss  Burnham 
with  an  inquiring  smile).  "  Oh !  Har- 
ford. Mr.  Harford,  'm  pleased  to  meet 
you.  Don't  know  's  I  ever  heard  the 
name  before — something  like  Hartford, 
ain't  it  ?"  (He  laughs,  and  takes  a  seat  in 
a  remote  corner  of  the  room.  Harford 
and  Miss  Burnham  seat  themselves  near 
the  tea-table,  the  maid  having  mean- 
while brought  in  the  tea.) 

Miss  Mary.  "  May  I  give  you  a  cup 
of  tea,  Mr.  De  Vinney  ?" 

De  Vinney.  "  'M  obliged,  but  it's  some- 
thing I  never  touch.  I  was  reading  in 
the  weekly  Clarion,  the  other  day,  of 


the  large  percentage  of  deaths  due  to 
nervous  diseases,  traceable  to  tea-drink- 
ing, in  a  province  of  China.  I  don't  just 
recall  the  name  of  the  place,  but  when 
you  come  to  think  of  the  component 
parts  of  tea — volatile  oil,  resin,  gum,  wax, 
tannin,  woody  fibre,  and  the  rest — it's 
no  wonder." 

Harford  (trying  to  get  into  the  con- 
versation). "  Miss  Mary,  did  you  go  to 
the  vaudeville  at  Harry  Blake's  last 
week?  They  say  it  was  extremely  clev- 
er—  Japanese  jugglers;  Jadetsky,  the 
Polish  'cellist;  little  Miss  Graham  in 
that  capital  song,  '  Mercy !  what  will 
Bob  say  to  that?'  and  a  lot  of  good 
singing  and  dancing." 

Miss  Mary.  "  No ;  and  I  was  very 
sorry.  Let  me  see  ;  that  was  Tuesday, 
and  the  Williamses  were  here." 

De  Vinney.  "  And  that  was  the  day 


of  our  big  bicycle  parade.  It  would 
have  been  a  treat  to  you  to  see  it,  Mr. 
Harford — twenty -seven  machines  rep- 
resented. Let's  see "  (he  half  closes 
one  eye  and  looks  up  at  the  ceiling) — 
"  there  were  the  Get  There,  the  Auch- 
muty,  the  Overland,  the  Centaur,  the 
Baby  Ruth — "  (he  gives  the  names  of 
the  other  twenty-one  bicycles). 

Miss  Mary  (glancing  at  Harford). 
"  It  must  have  been  very  interesting." 
There  is  an  awkward  pause. 

De  Vinney  continues:  "Yes;  some  of 
the  boys  had  their  bikes  dressed  up  ele- 
gantly with  flags  and  flowers,  and  when 
we  got  in  front  of  the  brick  block  we 
gave  our  cheer."  (He  rises,  and  waves  his 
hat  and  cane  in  unison  with  the  rhyme.) 

"  By  bo  Bike, 
How  do  you  like 
The  Centre-Street  wheelmen  ? 
By  bo  Bike  !" 


^\o4wt*«.        £-  .     Sfr^v-wwoO  ^A* 


MRS.    EDWARD    MILLER    AND    THE   TWO    CHILDREN 


15 

During  this  recital  Harford  edges 
about  uneasily  in  his  chair  and  bows 
his  head.  Miss  Mary  turns  slightly, 
and,  while  she  adjusts  a  hair-pin,  stifles 
a  yawn. 

Harford,  inwardly  vowing  that  he  will 
outstay  the  meritorious  De  Vinney,  even 
if  it  should  be  necessary  to  foot  it  back 
to  town,  glances  at  the  clock :  "  By- 
the-way,  when  can  I  get  a  train  back  to 
town  ?" 

Miss  Mary  looks  inquiringly  at  De 
Vinney,  who  says,  "  Well,  I  don't  hard- 
ly remember  just  when  the  trains  do  go, 
but  this  will  tell — fortunate  I  brought 
them  with  me."  (He  draws  from  his 
pocket  several  small  paper-bound  books, 
and  hands  one  to  each  of  the  others.) 
"  They're  a  very  useful  article — De  Vin- 
ney s  Flower ettes  of  Information,  a  hand- 
book I  got  up  awhile  ago.  Contains 


i6 

heights  of  Pyramids,  Washington  Mon- 
ument, St.  Peter's  at  Rome  (Italy),  Equi- 
table Life  building,  and  other  struct- 
ures and  edifices ;  tables  of  weights  and 
coins."  Then,  rather  roguishly,  to  Miss 
Mary :  "  Now,  I  don't  believe  you  know 
what  the  equivalent  is,  in  American 
coin,  of  a  Mahbub  of  twenty  piasters, 
hey  ?"  (He  is  overcome  with  merri- 
ment at  Miss  Mary's  failure  to  respond.) 

Harford,  who  is  gloomily  studying 
the  Flowerettes,  finds  trains  at  10.38  and 
1 1. 1 8.  He  resolves  to  make  a  feint  for 
the  earlier  train,  thus  starting  De  Vin- 
ney,  then  to  return  for  a  few  blissful 
moments. 

Harford.  "  Really,  I'm  very  sorry,  but 
I  think  I  must  make  a  try  for  the  10.38." 
He  rises  and  goes  towards  Miss  Mary, 
who  is  beginning  to  show  signs  of  wea- 
riness. She  glances  in  the  direction  of 


De  Vinney  with  a  look,  Harford  fancies, 
of  intense  boredom,  so  he  says :  "  Good- 
night, Miss  Mary.  Are  you  ready  for 
a  walk,  Mr.  De  Vinney  ?" 

De  Vinney.  "  Well,  can't  say  as  I  am. 
I  got  to  meet  my  partner,  Mr.  Eddy, 
who's  been  in  buying  goods.  He's  due, 
if  the  'Rusher'  from  Union  Depot  is 
on  time,  at  12.10,  so  I  guess  I  won't 
start  just  yet.  Miss  Burnham  is  one  of 
those  owls,  so  she  says,  and  don't  mind 
sitting  up.  'M  I  right,  Miss  Burnham?" 

Miss  Mary  gives  a  good-natured  as- 
sent, and  Harford  rather  awkwardly  ex- 
plains that  perhaps  he  may  as  well  wait 
for  the  later  train,  after  all. 

De  Vinney  (cheerfully  ignoring  Har- 
ford's  break).  "  Miss  Burnham,  you 
haven't  been  in  the  store  lately.  We've 
made  some  changes  there — moved  the 
cash-drawer  up  front,  and  changed  the 


IS 

soda-fountain  over  on  the  other  side. 
Makes  it  a  good  deal  handier.  Pre- 
sume likely  you  noticed  the  window 
when  you  went  up  street ;  we  had  it 
fixed  up  by  a  professional  window-dress- 
er from  Brooklyn.  He  did  it  elegant ; 
but  after  he  got  all  through,  the  boy 
slipped  in  and  put  a  baseball  cap  on  the 
bust  of  Venus,  and  it  looked  so  kinder 
comical,  Eddy  and  me  thought  we'd 
leave  it." 

At  this  juncture  a  clatter  and  com- 
motion is  heard  on  the  piazza,  the  dogs 
bark,  and  then  enter  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ed- 
ward Miller  and  two  children.  Miss 
Mary  rushes  to  embrace  little  Jack. 
Numerous  explanations  follow,  all  talk- 
ing at  once.  The  miserable  hotel-man 
said  he  never  got  the  telegram,  and  the 
place  was  full  of  people  who  came  in  to 
see  the  Bicentennial  torch-light  parade, 


and  the  streets  were  really  beautifully 
illuminated  —  but,  oh,  if  they  could  all 
have  seen  the  children  at  the  circus, 
they  enjoyed  it  so  much !  The  little 
girl  Marian  tells  startling  tales  about 
the  elephant  to  De  Vinney,  who  listens 
sympathetically,  snaps  imaginary  whip, 
and  says,  "  Whoa,  January !"  Harford, 
who  is  standing  a  little  apart,  attempts 
to  appear  interested,  but  somehow  feels 
that  he  isn't  in  it.  He  occasionally  tries 
to  get  in  a  word  with  Miss  Mary,  who, 
in  her  excitement  over  the  children, 
seems  to  have  forgotten  his  existence. 
She  disappears,  carrying  little  Jack  off 
to  bed,  and  Harford  listens  for  a  few 
minutes  to  complaints  from  Mr.  Edward 
Miller  about  the  wretched  train  service 
between  town  and  Starling. 

Harford  enthusiastically  endorses  all 
Miller's  complaints,  but  Miller  seems  to 


22 


resent  this,  so  Harford  drops  the  sub- 
ject. De  Vinney  reminds  him  that  he 
has  just  time  to  catch  the  train,  and  he 
leaves,  Miss  Mary  appearing  on  the 
stairs  in  time  to  give  him  a  hurried 
good  -  bye.  She  and  Mrs.  Miller  beg 
him  to  come  again,  and  De  Vinney 
urges  him  to  call  over  at  the  store  when 
he  happens  round  Centre  Street  way. 
The  train  is  half  an  hour  late,  and  Har- 
ford reaches  his  club  in  a  very  bad  hu- 
mor. He  makes  up  his  mind  that  mar- 
riage is  a  failure,  that  existence  in  the 
suburbs  is  fitted  only  for  savages,  and 
that  club  life  with  a  lot  of  good  fellows 
is,  after  all,  the  only  life  for  a  young 
man  in  moderately  comfortable  circum- 
stances. Then  he  sits  down  and  writes 
to  Schwartzwalder  &  Klumpke,  the  flor- 
ists, ordering  a  large  box  of  Mero- 
vingia  roses  to  be  sent  to  Miss  Mary 


Burnham,  Starling-on-the-Bay.  "She 
always  liked  those  roses,"  he  says  to 
himself  as  he  smokes  his  cigar  on  the 
way  home. 


A   QUESTION   OF  IDENTITY 


II 

(From  William  Harford,  Esq.,  to  Richard  Apple- 
ton,  Esq.,  Elkhorn  Ranch,  Sands  Run,  Wyo- 
ming?) 

DEAR  DICK,  —  I  have  your  letter  of 
the  23d,  and  sent  the  polo  mallets  and 
cartridges  as  you  asked  me  to  do,  and 
also  the  papers  with  accounts  of  the 
yacht -race.  Why  complain  of  exile, 
when  you  have  so  much  chance  for 
sport  and  can  be  your  own  master,  in- 
stead of  stewing  in  a  musty  office  all 
day,  as  I  have  to  do  ? 

By -the -way,  your  suspicions  about 
my  visits  to  that  place  out-of-town  are 
totally  unfounded.  There  is  nobody  at 
the  club  now,  and  when  I  have  a  little 


30 

spare  time  is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that 
I  like  to  get  a  breath  of  fresh  air,  a  lit- 
tle exercise  at  tennis,  and  a  chance  to 
handle  a  boat?  And  then  again,  you 
know,  I  have  always  had  a  fad  for  study- 
ing human  nature,  and  the  Miller  house- 
hold at  Starling  is  a  fine  field  for  that. 
They  are  the  most  original,  interesting 
lot  of  people !  [Harford  says  to  himself 
that  this  is  not  at  all  likely  to  go  down 
with  his  friend  Appleton,  but  he  buries 
his  head  in  the  sand  and  proceeds.] 
Miller  is  a  conventional  suburban, 
whose  conversation  runs  riot  in  plumb- 
ing, time  -  tables,  and  local  anecdote ; 
Mrs.  Miller,  a  kindly,  comfortable  per- 
son, who,  unbeknown  to  her  husband, 
rules  him  and  the  household  with  a  vel- 
vet paw.  Then  there  is  Miss  Burn- 
ham,  Mrs.  Miller's  sister,  who  is  rather 
an  attractive  young  woman  [Phoebus 


33 

Apollo,  thinks  Harford,  what  a  tame 
description !] ;  two  children,  more  or 
less  obtrusive  at  times;  Uncle  Chad, 
and  no  end  of  cousins  and  relations, 
who  live  in  the  neighborhood,  and  spend 
all  their  waking  hours  at  the  Millers'. 
The  other  day  I  went  out  there  for  a 
sail,  and  waited  over  for  dinner.  The 
meal  was  passed  in  an  excited  discus- 
sion, which  continued  until  late  in  the 
evening,  over  the  identity  of  a  certain 
commuter  on  the  train,  whom  I  had 
noticed  once  or  twice,  and  rashly  in- 
quired about. 

"  That's  Benson,  the  candy  -  man  in 
the  village,"  said  Miller,  in  his  decisive 
way. 

"  Benson  ?"  retorted  Uncle  Chad — 
"Benson?  Why,  man,  you're  losing 
your  senses.  Harford  describes  him  as 
a  tall  slender  man  with  sandy  hair; 


34 

Benson  is  short  and  stout,  with  a  red 
face." 

"  Benson  is  dead,"  remarks  Mrs.  Mil- 
ler, seriously.  This  statement  sets  them 
all  shouting,  protesting,  and  contradict- 
ing at  once.  The  group  separates,  Un- 
cle Chad  and  Miller  going  out  on  the 
piazza,  where  they  wrangle  over  Ben- 
son's personal  appearance.  One  of  the 
cousins  suggests  that  I  may  mean  Stri- 
ker of  Centreville,  who  always  used  to 
drive  down  to  the  beach  with  his  wife, 
and  then  go  in  bathing  with  that  pretty 
Wilkes  girl. 

"  That  wasn't  Miss  Wilkes  at  all,"  said 
Miss  Burnham ;  "  it  was  his  cousin,  Miss 
Irene  something  or  other." 

"  And  the  lady  who  drives  him  down 
isn't  his  wife,  Johnny,"  shouts  Uncle 
Chad  from  the  piazza;  "it's  his  sis- 
ter." 


37 

Johnny  is  snubbed  for  trying  to  get 
up  a  village  scandal,  and  subsides. 

"  By-the-way,  Harford,"  says  Uncle 
Chad,  appearing  at  the  window,  "  this 
man  that  you  spoke  of — had  he  a  yel- 
lowish mustache?" 

"  Yes,  I  think  he  had." 

"  And  a  slight  limp?"  suggested  Miller. 

"  Yes." 

"  And  shiny  black  clothes  ?"  asked 
one  of  the  children. 

"  Yes,  black  clothes." 

"Oh!  oh!  oh!"  they  all  shouted, 
"that's  Riordan,  Mr.  Master's  profes- 
sional nurse!" 

"  Limps  quite  a  good  deal  ?"  said  Mil- 
ler, confidently. 

"  Decidedly  blond  yellow  mustache  ?" 
from  Uncle  Chad. 

"  The  blackest  kind  of  clothes  ?"  said 
the  child  who  had  spoken  before. 


38 

Then  a  general  joyful  chorus  of:  "  Ri- 
ordan ;  of  course  it's  Riordan !  Why 
didn't  we  think  of  him  before?"  I 
joined  in  the  general  jubilee  over  the 
discovery  of  Riordan's  identity,  when 
Mrs.  Miller  inquired,  laconically, 

"Whiskers?" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ?"  said  I. 

"  Has  he  whiskers  ?" 

"  No,"  I  replied,  sadly ;  "  no  whiskers." 

"  Then  it  isn't  Riordan,"  said  Uncle 
Chad,  grumpily,  with  a  manner  plainly 
implying  that  I  had  misled  them  in  my 
description. 

"  Riordan  may  have  shaved  his  whis- 
kers," somebody  suggested. 

"But  he  couldn't  have,"  said  little 
Jack,  "  'cause  I  saw  him  getting  off  the 
5.28  to-day,  an'  he  had  his  whiskers  an' 
— an' — everything." 

With  indescribable  energy  they  hunt- 


ed  down  various  clews  for  perhaps  half 
an  hour,  during  which  time  the  height, 
weight,  and  general  conformation  of  this 
mysterious  individual  were  rehearsed  in 
minute  detail,  each  going  over  the  same 
ground  again  and  again  with  some  de- 
gree of  acrimony. 

Finally  a  cousin  who  had  just  arrived 
said  he  believed  he  knew  who  it  was. 
That  limp,  and  the  yellowish  mustache, 
and  hair  a  little  darker,  could  belong  to 
no  one  but  that  man  Graham,  who  was 
a  gambler  from  Lindhurst.  Surely  it 
could  be  no  one  else.  Uncle  Chad  and 
the  others  of  the  family  crowded  about 
me  and  plied  me  with  questions. 

Everything  tallied,  even  down  to  a 
slight  scar  just  above  the  left  eye,  which 
I  gladly  admitted,  although  I  had  failed 
to  notice  it.  There  was  a  triumphant 
shout  of  joy — such  as  must  have  gone 


42 

up  when  the  sailors  on  the  caravels  dis- 
covered the  land  stretched  out  before 
their  hungry  eyes.  Graham  was  the 
man.  The  Lindhurst  gambler  filled  the 
bill  in  every  particular,  and  peace  again 
reigned  over  the  house  of  Miller. 

That  night  at  the  station  I  made  some 
inquiries,  and  found  that  the  individual 
in  question  was  a  modest  divinity  student 
named  Elisha  Smith,  who  was  quietly 
pursuing  his  studies  at  the  theological 
seminary. 

By-by,  old  man ;  I  hope  to  get  out  to 
the  ranch  for  a  little  shooting  in  Octo- 
ber. Yours, 

BILL. 


UNCLE   CHAD 


A   LITTLE   MUSIC 


Ill 

THEY  had  a  musical  evening  at  the 
Millers',  and  Harford  decided  to  be  there, 
in  order  that  he  might  pursue  his  stud- 
ies of  human  nature  in  the  suburbs; 
also  incidentally  to  watch  Miss  Mary  at 
the  piano,  where,  Harford  thought,  she 
combined  the  attributes  of  a  seraphic 
angel  with  the  genius  of  a  Mozart. 

The  family  were  all  present,  includ- 
ing a  vast  number  of  cousins  of  both 
sexes.  De  Vinney  was  there  in  the  fa- 
miliar frock-coat ;  Tommy  Mason,  who, 
they  said,  sang  such  inimitable  comic 
songs ;  Mr.  T.  S.  Johnstone  Leigh,  an 
anglicized  American  youth,  very  horsy, 
round  shouldered,  steeped  in  gloom, 


48 

and  halting  of  speech;  Miss  Landon, 
one  of  the  Lawn  Club  set,  tall,  blond, 
and  thoroughly  well  groomed,  with  a 
rich,  low  voice,  and  an  inexhaustible 
fund  of  conversation. 

Mr.  Miller,  early  in  the  evening,  issued 
a  ukase  that  the  exercises,  as  he  called 
them,  should  proceed  strictly  in  accord- 
ance with  a  programme  that  he  had 
prepared,  and  he  announced,  in  a  sono- 
rous voice,  after  referring  to  a  slip  of 
paper  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  that 
the  first  piece  would  be  a  mixed  quar- 
tet entitled  "  The  Serf's  Complaint,"  by 
Pellerini :  soprano,  Miss  Burnham  ;  con- 
tralto, Miss  Landon ;  first  bass,  Miller ; 
second  bass,  Uncle  Chad.  The  per- 
formers, with  the  exception  of,  Miller, 
occupied  some  time  at  the  piano  re- 
hearsing their  parts,  Uncle  Chad  pro- 
testing violently  that  they  never  sang  it 


~t\-  S.  - 


TO   ASK.   IF   HE   HAD   ENJOYED   HIS  '  DRAHVE  ' 


just  that  way  at  the  old  house  on  the 
Middle  Road  early  in  the  forties,  be- 
cause in  the  first  part  of  the  refrain  he 
was  positive  that  the  bass  "  rum  turn 
diddy  um  diddy  ido  dum  "  was  a  solo, 
and  that  the  first  bass  ought  to  wait  un- 
til he  got  through.  He  glared  angrily 
at  Miller,  who  said  he  didn't  understand 
it  that  way,  and  that  it  was  contrary  to 
all  principles  of  counterpoint.  Just  at 
that  moment  Miss  Mary  was  called  away 
to  make  some  arrangements  about  sup- 
per, and  Miss  Landon  turned  to  Leigh 
to  ask  if  he  had  enjoyed  his  "  drahve  " 
to  the  kennels.  Leigh  wrinkled  his 
brow,  lifted  his  eyebrows,  dropped  his 
eyes,  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
and  murmured  something  in  reply  which 
is  lost  to  history. 

"  But   do   you  know,"  Miss   Landon 
went  on, "  I'm  really  not  so  keen  about 


52 

drahving  when  you  have  a  chance  to 
rahde,  because  there  is  nothing  so  lovely 
as  a  gallop  on  these  cool  afternoons,  with 
fahve  -  o'clock  tea  when  you  get  back, 
and  then  lots  of  tahme  to  dress  and 
dahne  when  you  lahke." 

In  the  meantime  one  of  the  cousins, 
Miss  Alice  somebody,  whose  name  Har- 
ford  never  was  able  to  discover,  sug- 
gested, in  an  impulsive  way,  that  Mr. 
Mason  should  sing  the  "  Nightingale 
Song." 

"  Oh, ye-e-es, the  'Nightingale  Song'!" 
shouted  all  the  other  cousins  in  unison. 
Miller  urged  that  this  was  a  departure 
from  the  programme,  but  just  at  that 
moment  he  was  called  to  the  telephone, 
where  he  was  heard  a  moment  later  ar- 
guing with  Crooks,  the  plumber,  about 
a  defective  stopper  which  had  been 
put  in  one  of  the  laundry  tubs  that  day. 


55 

Miss  Mary  explained  to  Harford,  sotto- 
voce,  that  little  Mason  really  had  an  ex- 
quisite voice,  although  he  seldom  sang 
anything  but  comic  songs,  and  she 
rushed  to  the  piano  to  listen  to  the 
"  Nightingale  Song"  with  an  enthusiasm 
which  Harford  thought  unwarranted  by 
the  character  of  the  performance. 

"  Sing  again  !  sing  again  !  sing  again  !" 
roared  Mason,  and  the  cousins  all  echoed 
"  Sing  again !"  until  Harford  wished 
that  Mason,  with  his  nightingales,  could 
be  immersed  in  the  water  of  the  bay. 

This  over,  Miller  insisted  on  a  return 
to  "The  Serf's  Complaint,"  an  unsuccess- 
ful performance,  in  which  Miller  pre- 
dominated with  an  indifferent  but  ag- 
gressive first  bass.  At  this  point  Mrs. 
Miller  smilingly  interposed,  whispered 
a  few  words  in  her  husband's  ear,  fur- 
tively tore  up  the  programme  he  had 


56 

prepared,  and  suggested  that  Mr.  Leigh 
should  sing  that  hunting-song  he  learned 
at  Eton.  Leigh  murmured  something 
about  having  forgotten  the  words,  but 
Uncle  Chad  suggested  a  brandy-and- 
soda,  and  Miss  Landon  promised  to  at- 
tempt an  accompaniment,  so  he  was 
finally  persuaded  to  lift  up  his  voice  in 
"  Reynard  the  Boy,"  a  melody  which 
went  on  through  thirteen  stanzas,  each 
one  ending  with  a  wild,  ear-piercing 
"  whoo-whoop  !"  However  silent  and 
unintelligible  the  young  man  might 
be  ordinarily,  Harford  thought,  it  was 
not  from  absence  of  lung-power,  as  all 
the  children  were  awakened,  and  Mrs. 
Miller  disappeared,  not  to  return  for 
the  remainder  of  the  evening. 

Then  followed  a  miscellaneous  collec- 
tion of  opera-bouffe,  comic  songs,  and 
Gilbert  and  Sullivan,  Miller  in  the  mean- 


MR.   T.  S.  JOHNSTONE   LEIGH 


59 

time  taking  a  seat  by  Harford,  and  dis- 
coursing on  the  outrageous  attitude  of 
the  village  supervisors  on  the  subject 
of  the  Graham  Avenue  sewer.  Crooks, 
the  plumber,  was  really  at  the  bottom 
of  the  whole  business  with  his  devilish 
scheming.  Then  there  was  that  drain 
on  Myrtle  Street,  just  near  Hackett's 
house. 

At  this  juncture  Miner's  attention 
was  diverted  to  a  piece  of  fly-paper 
which  had  blown,  sticky  side  $own,  on 
a  bundle  of  legal  documents  on  hjs  desk, 
and  Harford  improved  the  opportunity 
to  follow  Miss  Mary  put  on  the  piazza, 
she  having  obtained  a  brief  respite  from 
the  piano.  It  was  a  beautiful  moonlit 
night,  and  she  seemed  so  lovely  and 
gracious  that  perhaps  Harford  thought 
the  moment  might  be  near,  when  from 
the  piano — 


6o 


"  Ain't  she  the  corkingest  girl  of  the  lot, 

Ain't  she  the  dawn  of  the  dye, 
Ain't  she  the  dimpledy  dear  little  dot, 
The  dyesy  I  met  at  the  plye  ?" 

This  from  Mason,  the  cousins  de- 
manding it  again  and  again,  and  finally 
urging  a  repetition  of  the  "  Nightingale 
Song."  Harford  sadly  made  up  his 
mind  that  the  moment  was  not  propi- 
tious, especially  as  Miller  shortly  joined 
him  to  finish  his  discourse  on  the  sewers 
and  drains,  and  Miss  Mary  was  called 
back  to  accompany  Miss  Landon  in  a 
song  called  "  Tahme  Will  Decahde." 
Supper  followed,  and  then  De  Vinney 
suggested  that  they  should  all  join 
hands  for  "Auld  Acquaintance"  and 
"  He's  a  Jolly  Good  Fellow,"  a  ceremony 
in  which  Leigh  was  unwillingly  forced 
to  join,  anjd  which  seemed  to  inflict 
upon  him  an  inexpressible  degree  of 


"SHE   SEEMED   SO   LOVELY  AND   GRACIOUS" 


63 

bodily  pain.  After  this  the  party  broke 
up,  the  cousins  humming  "  Sing  again  " 
and  "  Ain't  she  the  dimpledy  dear  little 
dot  ?"  as  they  gathered  together  their 
wraps  in  the  hall. 

That   night    Harford  went   to    sleep 
with  this  refrain  dinning  in  his  ears : 

"  Sing  it  again — 
Sing  of  the  drain ; 
Sing  of  the  nightingale, 
Sewer,  and  drain  !" 


THE   RAILROAD    HUMORIST 


IV 

OUR  friend  Harford  was  not  especial- 
ly addicted  to  early  rising,  and  his  trips 
to  Starling  and  the  return  to  town  for 
business  by  the  7.38  special  forced  him 
to  leave  the  Millers'  at  a  particularly  un- 
earthly hour,  often  without  his  break- 
fast, and  nearly  always  in  a  bad  humor. 
In  the  course  of  these  journeys,  whether 
made  in  the  cold  blasts  of  January, 
when  the  door  of  the  car  refused  to 
stay  shut,  or  in  the  hottest  days  of  July, 
when  the  windows  refused  to  be  opened, 
Harford  noted  with  interest  the  unvary- 
ing and  perhaps  aggressive  cheerfulness 
of  the  average  daily  commuter.  A  delay 
of  half  an  hour  was  a  source  of  gratifi- 


68 


cation ;  the  hasty  rush  to  the  station 
of  a  belated  suburban  gave  ground  for 
merriment  unrestrained.  As  these  were 
incidents  of  frequent  recurrence,  Har- 
ford  wondered  why  they  did  not  lose 
their  novelty,  and  was  finally  led  to  con- 
sider more  closely  than  he  had  done 
heretofore  the  traits  of  a  group  of  fel- 
low-passengers who  may  be  described 
as  the  professional  railroad  humorists. 

If  a  composite  photograph  could  be 
taken  of  the  master-workman  in  the 
band  of  humorists,  it  would  picture  a 
short,  stout,  florid  man  with  a  brownish 
beard ;  in  age  about  forty-three ;  sharply 
marked  crow's-feet  about  the  eyes,  indi- 
cating a  constant  tendency  to  laughter; 
heavy  features,  and  large,  protruding 
ears.  Notwithstanding  a  bulkiness  of 
frame,  he  is  quick  of  movement.  He  is 
watchful  of  eye,  ready  of  speech,  and 


OUR    FRIEND    HARFORD 


his  name  is  apt  to  be  "  Al "  or  "  Lon." 
Harford  observed  that  this  important 
personage  is  always  surrounded  by  a 
body  of  satellites  who  are  quite  content 
to  shine  only  by  reflected  light,  and 
who,  with  smiles  frozen  on  their  expect- 
ant faces,  await  patiently  the  point  of 
the  anecdote  he  happens  to  be  narrat- 
ing, or  the  gibe  with  which  he  is  certain 
to  receive  an  acquaintance  late  of  com- 
ing. The  followers  of  Lon,  the  7.38 
special  humorist,  were  named  respec- 
tively Ed,  Will,  Van  Nort,  and  Stroude- 
bush,  and  Harford  noted  that  in  other 
groups  the  types  were  similar,  although 
the  names  may  have  differed.  Ed  and 
Will  were  ponderous  individuals,  with 
heavy  black  mustaches ;  Van  Nort,  elder- 
ly, with  tan-colored  face  and  white  beard ; 
and  Stroudebush,  pallid,  light-haired 
and  light-eyed,  was  decidedly  the  young- 


72 

est  of  the  lot,  and  perhaps  the  most  ap- 
preciative. 

Lon  was  wont  daily  to  rally  Van 
Nort  on  the  incorrectness  of  his  watch, 
a  point  of  humor  which  never  failed 
of  an  immediate  and  hilarious  response 
from  the  others  of  the  party. 

"  Say,  Van  Nort,  ain't  that  a  new 
watch  ?"  said  Stroudebush,  acting  as 
runner-up  for  Lon. 

"  Where  was  the  fire  ?"  said  Will. 

"  Where  did  you  get  the  thing,  any- 
how ?"  from  Ed. 

"  Why,"  said  Lon,  "  everybody  knows 
that  Smith  was  advertising  for  that  old 
tomato-can  he  lost  the  other  day." 

After  the  laughter  subsides  Van  Nort 
taps  Lon  playfully  on  the  cheek,  and 
remarks,  somewhat  inconsequently, 

"Shoo  fly!" 

Will   adds,  "  T'roarer   bum   de   ay !" 


75 

But  this  does  not  seem  to  go  very  well, 
so  he  shoots  his  left  arm  from  his 
shoulder,  carries  his  hand  to  the  back 
of  his  head,  which  he  rubs  for  a  mo- 
ment, tilts  his  hat  over  his  nose,  laughs 
a  little,  and  says,  "  Oh,  pshaw  !" 

These  proceedings  were  inexpressibly 
irritating  to  Harford,  especially  as  he 
fancied  that  the  time  might  come  when 
he  would  be  made  the  victim  of  their 
ill -directed  horse -play.  Once  it  hap- 
pened that  an  Italian,  rather  the  worse 
for  liquor,  took  a  seat  beside  him,  and 
endeavored  to  engage  him  in  conversa- 
tion. The  train  was  waiting  at  a  sta- 
tion, and  the  hoarse  gutturals  of  the  son 
of  Italy  resounded  through  the  silent  car. 
Harford,  who  dreaded  publicity  and  a 
scene,  made  every  effort  to  maintain  a 
dignified  unconcern,  but  Lon  and  his 
followers  noted  the  incident  with  bois- 


76 

terous  expressions  of  joy,  and  Harford 
saw  them  signalling  to  a  party  of  young 
men  at  the  station,  who  in  turn  peered 
at  him  through  the  windows,  and  em- 
phasized their  appreciation  of  the  joke 
by  immoderate  laughter  and  the  execu- 
tion of  a  few  jig  steps  on  the  platform. 
The  scene  was  becoming  painful,  and 
the  hilarity  of  the  humorists  gradually 
increasing  to  the  point  of  exhaustion, 
when,  to  Harford's  relief,  the  train 
started,  and  his  Italian  friend  dropped 
into  a  heavy  slumber.  This  ended  the 
incident,  but  Harford  always  fancied 
afterwards  that  Lon  and  his  friends 
noted  him  as  he  passed,  and  that  they 
engaged  in  surreptitious  mirth  at  his 
expense,  varied  by  occasional  confi- 
dences about  him  to  the  newsboy  or 
brakeman. 

It  was  quite  evident  that  to  the  rail- 


79 

road  humorist  and  his  friends  the  train 
filled  the  place  of  the  club  or  the  theatre; 
but  the  extraordinary  thing,  Harford 
thought,  was  that  there  was  never  a 
break  in  their  flow  of  spirits.  At  times 
the  best  of  us  is  troubled  in  mind,  our 
temper  ruffled,  our  spirit  vexed,  but  not 
so  the  gentleman  of  the  Lon  variety. 
Harford  often  noticed  that  the  more 
vexatious  a  delay  might  be  on  the  morn- 
ing train,  the  merrier  became  the  hu- 
morist, and  the  more  responsive  his 
friends.  If  a  snow-storm  blocked  the 
way  and  the  passengers  were  nearly 
frozen  to  death,  Ed  would  playfully  af- 
fect to  mop  the  perspiration  from  his 
brow,  and  wellnigh  explode  with  laugh- 
ter over  Lon's  latest  bon-mot.  Certain- 
ly no  club  or  theatre  ever  had  a  record 
of  such  continuous  and  complete  enjoy- 
ment. 


8o 

Another  remarkable  feature  of  this 
association  of  railway  jokers  is  the  effect 
that  it  exercises  in  levelling  classes  and 
obliterating  social  lines.  In  one  of  the 
groups  which  came  under  Harford's  ob- 
servation he  noticed  that  the  star  was 
an  unkempt,  rather  dirty  individual, 
who  might  have  been  understudy  for  a 
stoker  on  a  tug-boat,  while  associated 
with  him  were  well-dressed,  prosperous- 
looking  men,  who  looked  like  bankers 
or  merchants,  or  even  Sons  of  the  Rev- 
olution, for  anything  Harford  could  dis- 
cover to  the  contrary;  and  this  ill-as- 
sorted body  hobnobbed  together,  hang- 
ing on  the  words  of  the  seedy-looking 
person,  and  roaring  over  his  quips  with 
unfeigned  enjoyment,  while  it  is  a  curi- 
ous paradox  that  neither  he  nor  any  of 
the  professional  railroad  humorists  was 
ever  known  to  say  anything  really  funny. 


8i 

Harford  noticed  every  morning  when 
Lon  and  his  friends  first  met  that  there 
was  a  moment,  a  brief  moment,  of  seri- 
ousness, followed  by  peals  of  inextin- 
guishable laughter.  He  ascertained 
that  the  proceedings  opened  with  ques- 
tions as  to  the  state  of  the  thermometer, 
and  Van  Nort  was  always  suspected  of 
exaggeration.  The  burst  of  merriment 
greeted  Lon's  remark  that  Van  Nort 
kept  his  thermometer  in  Jihe  range  in 
summer  and  in  the  ice-box  in  winter. 
This  joke  amused  the  crowd  every  day 
that  Harford  happened  to  notice  them, 
and,  so  far  as  he  knows,  it  is  amusing 
them  still. 


MOMENTS   WITH    MECHANICS 


MRS.  MILLER  had  taken  the  children 
away  for  a  two  weeks'  visit  to  her  old 
school-friend  Julia  Marsh;  and  Miller, 
after  endless  secret  conferences  with 
Uncle  Chad,  had  determined  upon  some 
necessary  improvements  in  the  house 
and  grounds  as  a  surprise  for  his  wife 
when  she  returned.  A  bow-window 
with  a  southwestern  exposure  had  been 
agreed  upon  after  much  heated  discus- 
sion, and  there  was  something  about 
the  pipes  in  the  laundry  which  had  been 
exhaustively  debated,  but  so  far  no  satis- 
factory plan  of  action  had  been  reached. 
There  was  also  a  little  painting  to  be 
done,  and  a  number  of  elaborate  mos- 


86 

quito-bars  and  wire  netting  to  be  set 
up ;  but  on  this  last  point  there  was  lit- 
tle or  no  discussion,  because  this  is  a 
tender  point  with  the  average  suburban, 
who  declines  to  admit  the  existence  of 
mosquitoes,  no  matter  how  prevalent 
they  may  be  next  door  or  in  the  im- 
mediate neighborhood.  The  tennis- 
ground  was  also  to  be  relaid,  and  va- 
rious fence-posts  about  the  farm  (as  a 
field  at  the  back  of  the  house  was  called) 
were  to  be  strengthened  or  renewed. 
The  carriage  which  took  Mrs.  Miller  to 
the  station  was  hardly  out  of  sight  when 
the  telephone  bell  began  to  hum,  and 
after  that  Uncle  Chad,  who  was  not  a 
very  successful  operator  on  that  instru- 
ment, could  have  been  found  at  almost 
any  hour  of  the  day  irritably  shouting 
"Wha-a-t?"  to  Stolz  the  plumber,  or 
calling  Miss  Mary  to  come  down-stairs 


"UNCLE  CHAD,  IRRITABLY  SHOUTING  'WH-A-T?'" 


89 

and  help  him  out  in  a  controversy  with 
Sibley  the  carpenter,  or  some  other  me- 
chanic in  the  village.  That  evening  at 
dinner,  when  Miller  returned  from  town, 
the  spark  of  discussion  which  had  so 
long  smouldered  in  secret  burst  forth 
into  a  roaring  flame,  as  one  detail  of 
construction  after  another  was  brought 
up,  turned  over,  and  generally  rejected 
as  faulty,  unwise,  or  altogether  imprac- 
ticable. Miller  was  so  convinced  that 
Uncle  Chad  would,  if  left  to  himself, 
make  some  incorrigible  blunder  in  his 
instructions  to  the  workmen  that  he  de- 
cided to  give  up  business  the  next  day 
and  devote  himself  to  laying  down  a 
definite  line  of  action,  as  he  expressed 
it.  Uncle  Chad  was  equally  contempt- 
uous of  Miller's  mechanical  ability,  but 
wisely  concluded  to  say  nothing,  and  to 
reserve  himself  for  the  conflict  which  he 


go 

felt  sure  would  come  on  the  morrow. 
Sibley  the  carpenter  was  the  first  to  ar- 
rive, and  with  him  descended  the  war- 
cloud  which  was  to  envelop  the  Miller 
household  for  weeks  to  follow. 

"  Sibley,"  said  Miller,  "  I  want  to  have 
a  bow -window  built  here  to  project 
about  three  and  a  half  feet,  and  it  wants 
to  be  nine  feet  wide." 

"  No — eight  and  a  half,"  broke  in 
Uncle  Chad. 

"  No,  it  doesn't,"  said  Miller.  "  Here 
are  the  measurements  we  took  on  Fri- 
day, and  don't  you  remember  Ryan  said 
we  could  get  another  six  inches  ?" 

"  I  don't  care  what  Ryan  said.  He's 
an  addle-pated  fellow  who  always  over- 
estimates, and  when  he  made  that  win- 
dow for  Taylor — " 

"  Ryan  never  done  that  job  for  Tay- 
lor," said  Sibley,  running  his  eye  along 


the  cornice  reflectively.  "  I  done  it  my- 
self, and  'ain't  got  paid  yet." 

"  How  much  did  it  cost — I  mean  what 
did  it  measure?"  said  Uncle  Chad  and 
Miller  in  chorus.  Sibley  couldn't  just 
remember;  he  might  if  he  had  the  plans 
with  him,  but  of  course  he  left  'em  at 
the  shop,  not  thinking  they'd  be  needed, 
and — 

"Well,  Sibley,"  said  Miller,  starting 
over  again, "  I  want  a  bow-window  about 
nine  feet  wide — " 

"Oh,  bosh!"  said  Uncle  Chad,  very 
red  in  the  face,  and  moving  away  from 
the  group. 

"  About  nine  feet  wide,"  Miller  went 
on,  "  and  the  full  height  of  the  room. 
Window-seats  with  the  tops  opening 
with  hinges,  so  that  they  can  be  used 
as  boxes,  and  square  panes  of  glass  in 
the  windows." 


92 

Uncle  Chad,  unable  to  keep  away, 
had  returned,  and  was  drinking  in  every 
word. 

"  What  kind  of  glass  do  you  want  ?" 
said  Sibley. 

"Square  panes,"  from  Uncle  Chad. 

"  Well,"  from  Sibley, "  Howes's  Brittle 
Egg-shell,  or  Pittsburg  Rolled  ?" 

Miller  and  Uncle  Chad  looked  at  each 
other  helplessly,  each  unwilling  to  ac- 
knowledge that  he  was  not  posted  on 
this  branch  of  the  subject.  Miss  Mary, 
who  had  joined  the  group,  quietly  sug- 
gested that  they  wanted  the  same  kind 
of  glass  that  Mrs.  Abbott  had  in  her 
new  house.  Sibley  immediately  under- 
stood this  suggestion,  and  saying  some- 
thing about  "  Gumbert's  Transparent," 
made  a  memorandum  in  a  soiled  leather- 
covered  book.  Uncle  Chad,  who  was 
looking  over  his  shoulder,  noted  that 


'MILLER   IS   A   CONVENTIONAL   SUBURBAN1 


95 

the  entry  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to 
a  physician's  prescription. 

"  How  do  them  colyums  bear  ?"  Sibley 
began. 

"  Well,  they  bear  all  right,"  said  Miller, 
vaguely,  but  with  a  slight  shade  of  in- 
dignation. 

"  'Cause  if  they  chug  over  where  the 
beams  set,  you  couldn't —  I  don't  know, 
though,  but  what  you  might  get  a  job 
by  startin'  over  towards  the  drum — " 

"What  drum?"  said  Uncle  Chad, 
mopping  his  brow. 

"  Why,  the  drum  the  colyums  sets 
on ;  at  least,  not  what  they  sets  on,  but 
where  that  streak  chugs  in  with  the 
jamb." 

At  this  juncture  Uncle  Chad  with- 
drew and  secretly  looked  up  the  word 
"  chug  "  in  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica, 
foreseeing  that  it  was  to  play  an  impor- 


96 

tant  part  in  the  construction  of  the  new 
window.  He  also  consulted  the  Cen- 
tury Dictionary  and  Wilkes's  Thesaurus 
of  the  Vulgar  Tongue,  but  without 
success.  Returning  to  the  drawing- 
room,  he  found  Miller  and  Sibley  en- 
gaged in  a  sullen  controversy  about  the 
details  of  the  window,  Sibley  insisting 
that  the  job  could  not  be  carried  out  in 
the  place  indicated  for  various  techni- 
cal reasons,  which  Miller  was  unable  to 
controvert. 

"  Other  people  have  bow-windows  in 
their  houses,"  Miller  insisted.  "  Why 
can't  I  have  one  ?" 

"  'Cause  the  drum  ain't  right  for  it  I 
and  if  you  want  a  Selkirk  window — do 
you  want  a  Selkirk  window  ? — and  even 
if  you  had  a  Selkirk,  you'd  have  mason- 
work  enough  to  last  you  till  Decoration 
Day,  or  longer,  maybe." 


97 

"Well,"  said  Uncle  Chad,  hopelessly, 
"is  there  any  way  of  getting  a  bow- 
window  anywhere  in  this  house  without 
tearing  the  house  down  and  then  put- 
ting up  a  Selkirk,  or  whatever  you  call 
it,  and  then  building  another  house 
around  it  ?" 

"  Not  with  them  plans  you  got  there," 
said  Sibley.  "  Not,  leastways,  unless 
you  change  'em  so's  they  won't  bulge 
on  the  drum." 

"  Couldn't  you  chug  that  over  ?"  sug- 
gested Uncle  Chad,  diplomatically. 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  Sibley,  a  light 
breaking  in  gradually.  "Yes,  sir,  you 
could  chug  it  over  an  inch  and  a  half 
or  two  inches  beyond  this  wainskirting  " 
(taking  out  a  foot-rule  and  measuring 
rapidly).  "  That  would  make  the  win- 
dow eight  feet  six." 

"  That's  what  I  always  told  you,"  said 


Uncle  Chad,  triumphantly,  to  Miller. 
"  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  chug  it  over, 
and  make  the  window  eight  feet  six." 

"  Well,  I  don't  believe  in  that  policy 
myself,"  Miller  replied,  somewhat  crest- 
fallen, but  he  had  no  alternative  but  to 
comply.  "  How  much  will  it  cost?"  he 
asked. 

"  Well,  the  stuff  is  runnin'  kinder 
high  just  now.  Would  you  want  it 
plumb  sealed  with  oak  and  Jericho 
plaster  ?" 

"  Well,  no,"  said  Miller,  groping  for  a 
reply.  "  I  don't  think  we  need  Jericho 
plaster.  What  other  kind  could  you 
suggest  ?" 

"There's  Small's  satin-edge,  but  you 
wouldn't  want  that.  Might  just  as  well 
put  mud  on  your  walls.  Sucks  in  rain 
like  a  sponge." 

"  I  rather  like  the  effect  of  Jericho," 


99 

said  Uncle  Chad,  knowingly.  And  per- 
haps with  some  desire  of  overruling 
Miller,  he  added,  "  If  it  costs  a  little 
more  I  will  pay  it  myself." 

"  Yes,"  said  Sibley,  "  you  wouldn't  be 
satisfied  with  anything  but  Jericho.  It 
'11  cost  you  about  $4  50  more — $4  50 
to  $4  75.  Oh,  let's  see!"  he  went  on, 
rubbing  the  edge  of  his  thumb  along 
the  wall,  "how  does  them  studs  run?" 

Uncle  Chad,  rather  flushed  with  suc- 
cess over  the  result  of  the  Jericho  con- 
troversy, hazarded  a  reply,  which  be- 
trayed so  little  knowledge  of  even  the 
general  direction  of  the  studs  that  Sib- 
ley  had  to  turn  away  snickering,  and 
Miller  thought  he  would  regain  lost 
ground  by  asserting  that  they  ran  up 
and  down. 

"  Well,  of  course  they  run  up  and 
down,"  said  Sibley.  "  I  was  wondering 


how  far  apart  they  was."  Then  to  Un- 
cle Chad :  "  I  guess  you  ain't  in  the  way 
of  doin'  much  carpenter-work,  sir." 

Uncle  Chad  turned  away  glowering, 
and  was  ruminating  on  the  best  means 
of  overcoming  this  sudden  reversal  of 
fortune,  when  the  door-bell  rang  and 
three  persons  were  announced — Mrs. 
Colonel  Atterbury,  wife  of  the  local 
magnate  of  Starling ;  Harford,  for  one 
of  his  periodical  visits  ;  and  Stolz  the 
plumber.  Uncle  Chad,  upset  and  con- 
fused, introduced  Mrs.  Atterbury  to 
Stolz,  and  then  was  further  humiliated 
by  Miller,  who  explained  suavely  that 
his  uncle  was  somewhat  excited,  and 
they  must  not  mind  what  he  said.  Mrs. 
Atterbury,  finding  that  Mrs.  Miller  was 
absent,  exchanged  a  few  remarks  with 
Miss  Mary  as  to  the  unfitness  of  the 
road  commissioners,  and  then,  after 


"'HOW   DOES   THEM   STUDS   RUN?'" 


103 

glancing  critically  at  Harford  (as  every 
suburban  surveys  a  new-comer),  swept 
away  in  her  large  old-fashioned  barouche, 
leaving  the  combatants  still  on  the 
field. 

Harford  busied  himself  moving  fur- 
niture and  taking  down  pictures,  while 
Miss  Mary  sewed  the  curtains  for  the 
new  window,  and  the  others  took  their 
way  to  the  cellar  and  then  to  the  attic, 
the  two  mechanics  talking  together  in 
a  strange  jargon,  and  suggesting  plans 
for  pipes  which  upset  all  of  Miller's  pre- 
conceived ideas.  Stolz  the  plumber  was 
a  more  accommodating  and  tactful  per- 
son than  Sibley  the  carpenter,  but  very 
vague  on  the  subject  of  money,  his  favor- 
ite expression  being  that  the  job  might 
cost  eight  dollars  and  it  might  cost 
eighty ;  you  couldn't  tell  till  you  got 
at  it. 


104 

When  the  work  was  finally  started 
Harford  began  to  fear  that  Uncle  Chad 
would  go  off  in  a  fit  of  apoplexy.  The 
carpenters  arrived  about  three  days 
after  the  appointed  time,  and  then 
spent  several  days  more  sitting  on  the 
piazza,  waiting,  as  they  explained  it,  for 
the  stuff.  When  the  stuff  at  last  ar- 
rived the  carpenters  were  away,  and 
did  not  turn  up  again  for  several  days 
more.  Then  Uncle  Chad  was  awak- 
ened one  morning  shortly  after  six  by 
the  plumber,  who  explained  to  him  that 
he  couldn't  do  anything  till  the  others 
got  out — a  statement  which  so  exasper- 
ated Uncle  Chad  that  he  ordered  the 
man  out  of  the  house,  and  thus  delayed 
the  work  for  several  days  longer.  The 
difficulty  was  finally  patched  up  by  Miss 
Mary,  but  a  charge  of  $57  27  was  event- 
ually added  to  the  bill  for  wastage, 


MISS  MARY  SEWED  THE  CURTAINS  FOR  THE  NEW  WINDOW 


107 

truckage,  and  other  items  which  were 
not  decipherable. 

Another  grievance  of  Uncle  Chad's, 
which  he  was  compelled  to  endure  in 
silence,  was  the  presence  of  the  plumb- 
er's assistant,  who  spent  most  of  his 
time  lying  flat  on  his  back  under  a 
torn-up  floor,  apparently  doing  nothing 
in  the  way  of  work  but  lighting  and 
blowing  out  a  small  piece  of  candle, 
while  he  hummed  a  discordant  ver- 
sion of  "  Molly  and  I  and  the  Baby." 
The  workmen,  urged  by  Uncle  Chad's 
threats  and  Miller's  persuasions,  suc- 
ceeded in  finishing  most  of  the  altera- 
tions on  the  morning  of  the  day  set  for 
Mrs.  Miller's  return,  and  all  hands  had 
fallen  to  in  an  effort  to  clean  up  things 
before  4.38,  when  Brisbane  was  to  bring 
her  down  from  the  station.  Two  hours 
before  that  time,  Uncle  Chad,  very  red 


io8 

in  the  face,  was  sweeping  up  shavings 
in  the  drawing-room,  Harford  was  stand- 
ing on  a  chair  tacking  up  curtains  un- 
der Miss  Mary's  supervision,  and  Mil- 
ler was  making  superhuman  efforts  to 
crowd  a  cabinet  into  an  alcove  which 
the  carpenters  had  made  about  half  an 
inch  too  narrow,  when,  to  the  dismay  of 
all,  Mrs.  Miller  herself  entered,  having 
come  by  an  earlier  train.  She  surveyed 
the  alterations  with  a  judicial  air,  and 
though  she  praised  everything  without 
stint,  the  expression  of  her  eye  betrayed 
a  qualified  approval.  The  next  day, 
when  Miller  was  called  away  to  attend 
a  convention  of  the  "  Workers  for  bet- 
ter Drainage,"  she  quietly  summoned 
Sibley  and  Stolz,  and  had  radical 
changes  made  in  all  of  Miller's  most 
cherished  improvements.  This  gave 
Uncle  Chad  such  unalloyed  satisfaction 


log 


that  he  took  Miss  Mary  and  Harford 
to  the  theatre  for  three  nights  running, 
and  sent  a  check  for  $i  50  to  the  Star- 
ling Lyceum  Building  Fund. 


VILLAGE   THEATRICALS 


VI 


A  LARGE  square  card  with  gilt  edges, 
directed  to  Mr.  Miller,  Esq.,  and  family, 
was  received  one  morning,  announcing 
that  tableaux,  recitals,  and  a  hop  would 
be  given  at  the  village  hall  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  1 7th,  for  the  benefit  of  the 
Starling  Volunteer  Hook  and  Ladder 
Company,  and  a  few  days  later  De  Vin- 
ney  turned  up  with  a  request  that  Miss 
Mary  should  do  something  in  the  way 
of  helping  along  the  entertainment. 
"  It's  going  to  be  a  great  evening,"  said 
De  Vinney,  "  but  we've  had  trouble  set- 
tling on  just  the  right  kind  of  a  show. 
Now  my  partner,  Eddy,  is  a  fine  man 
in  respect  of  business,  but  when  you  get 


H4 

him  down  to  anything  in  the  social  line 
he's  worse  than  the  cholera.  He  want- 
ed to  have  hog-guessing  and  climbing 
the  greased  pole  in  the  afternoon,  and 
a  grab-bag  in  the  evening,  but  I  told 
him  that  would  never  do.  Why,  even 
down  at  Chestnut  Place  they  had  a 
smoking  concert,  and  if  Starling  can't 
beat  Chestnut  Place  on  an  entertain- 
ment, why  I  guess  we'd  better  sell  out. 
The  trouble  with  Eddy  is  he's  nothing 
more  than  a  farmer.  He's  been  acting 
mean  right  through."  Miss  Mary  was 
sorry  there  had  been  any  friction,  but 
hoped  it  could  all  be  smoothed  over 
and  arranged  before  the  evening  of  the 
performance.  "  Well,  I  guess  it  can," 
De  Vinney  went  on.  "  There's  been  a 
committee  formed  on  plan  and  scope, 
made  up  of  the  best  men  in  town,  if  I 
do  say  it.  I'm  chairman  and  treasurer ; 


"5 

then  there's  Will  Thorp,  old  man  Drink- 
water,  Cal  Ebbitt,  Burt  Runnels,  and 
Joe  Brautigam.  He's  the  one  that  plays 
the  concertina,  or  'most  any  other  in- 
strument, for  that  matter.  Ever  hear 
him  imitate  a  ferry-boat  coming  into 
the  slip,  Miss  Mary?  No?  Well, 
you'd  think  for  all  the  world  it  was  the 
real  thing.  Now  what  we  want  you  to 
do  is  to  get  up  about  two  tableaux  for 
us.  We've  got  a  good  show: — first-class 
— and  Joe  Brautigam  will  keep  'em 
laughing  till  they  can't  rest,  but  we 
want  a  little  dignity  kinder  infused  into 
it.  We  want  something  solid — more 
meat,  as  you  might  say."  Then  he 
added,  confidentially :  "  More  recherche. 
As  for  Chestnut  Place,  we  can  likely 
do  them  up  without  trying ;  and  when 
they  talk  about  their  smoking  concert,  I 
guess  the  old  stove  in  our  hall  will 


n6 


give  'em  all  the  smoke  they  want "  (he 
laughed  immoderately  at  this  sally) ; 
"  but  we  want  to  make  it  a  cyclone — 
something  they  couldn't  do  better  in 
New  York,  or — or  " — he  continued — 
"or  even  Brooklyn."  After  some  dis- 
cussion about  the  details,  Miss  Mary 
finally  promised  to  arrange  the  Greek 
tableaux,  which  she  said  had  been  very 
successful  at  Mrs.  Marsh's  in  town,  and 
De  Vinney  hurried  off  in  triumph  to 
tell  his  colleagues  on  the  plan-and-scope 
committee  of  his  success.  Miller,  who 
was  an  associate  member  of  the  fire 
company,  took  an  active  interest  in  all 
the  details  of  preparation,  and  in  view 
of  the  fact  that  he  proposed  to  run  for 
supervisor  at  the  spring  elections,  he 
sent  an  order  for  twenty-five  tickets,  and 
offered  a  prize  of  two  dollars  to  the  per- 
son who  should  sell  the  greatest  number 


up  to  twelve  o'clock  on  the  day  of  the 
performance.  The  prize  was  won  by 
Joe  Brautigam,  who  was  subsequently 
Miller's  opponent  as  candidate  for  su- 
pervisor, and  who  carried  the  election 
by  an  overwhelming  majority. 

Miller,  however,  who  could  not  have 
foreseen  this  disastrous  outcome  of  his 
plans,  spent  nearly  all  his  spare  time 
at  the  hall  pushing  around  the  two  sets 
of  scenery  in  a  vain  attempt  to  arrange 
effective  combinations.  It  was  a  diffi- 
cult task,  as  one  set  represented  a  snow 
scene  and  the  other  a  dismal  interior, 
which  did  duty  both  as  a  library  and  a 
dungeon.  Miller,  although  he  would 
not  confess  it,  was  to  a  great  extent 
stimulated  to  action  by  a  desire,  which 
he  shared  with  De  Vinney,  to  down 
Chestnut  Place,  whose  recent  sudden 
rise  in  real  estate  was  galling  in  the  ex- 


n8 

treme.  Consequently  on  the  evening 
of  the  show  he  urged  the  different  mem- 
bers of  the  family  and  the  guests  to  ap- 
pear in  evening  dress,  a  custom  which 
did  not  extensively  prevail  at  Starling 
entertainments,  but  which  Miller  insist- 
ed was  necessary  in  order  to  make  a 
good  appearance  with  the  town  people. 
The  real  secret  of  this  manoeuvre  was 
to  impress  Chestnut  Place,  because  the 
Lawn  Club  were  beginning  to  congre- 
gate there,  and  the  smoking  concert 
had  attracted  some  of  the  social  lions 
of  the  place. 

Miller  was  anxious  to  show  that  Star- 
ling could  be  up  to  date  quite  as  well  as 
other  localities.  After  dinner  the  party 
were  taken  in  Brisbane's  stage  to  the 
hall,  an  isolated  wooden  edifice  on  Pros- 
pect Avenue,  where  Miller  owned  some 
lots.  Uncle  Chad,  who  had  strongly 


disapproved  of  Miller's  investments  in 
that  particular  spot,  whispered  to  Har- 
ford  that  Miller  had  had  the  place  chris- 
tened Prospect  Avenue,  although  there 
was  no  prospect  and  no  avenue,  and  no 
prospect  of  there  ever  being  an  avenue. 
Entering  the  hall,  Miller  regretted 
that  he  had  expended  so  much  timqi  on 
the  scenery  and  sale  of  tickets,  and  had 
neglected  to  look  over  the  programme, 
the  general  character  of  the  entertain- 
ment having  been  left  in  charge  of  the 
plan-and-scope  committee.  Miller  was 
pained  to  observe  suppressed  tittering 
among  the  Lawn  Club  party  as  De  Vin- 
ney  appeared  at  the  door  attired  in  his 
frock-coat  and  blue  trousers,  and  wear- 
ing a  large  fireman's  helmet  with  "  Fore- 
man "  inscribed  in  front  in  shiny  white 
letters.  He  welcomed  the  newly  arrived 
guests  with  effusion,  introduced  them 


all  to  Eddy,  Brautigam,  and  the  others, 
and  then  conducted  them  with  much 
ceremony  to  seats  in  the  first  two  rows. 

To  add  to  Miller's  confusion,  the  com- 
mittee, without  his  knowledge  or  sanc- 
tion, had  placed  on  the  curtain  a  large 
blue  banner  on  which  were  inscribed 
the  words  "  Starling  H.  &  L.  Co.  Wel- 
come. Tickets,  50  cents."  And  at  vari- 
ous points  on  the  wall  were  pink  paper 
rosettes  from  which  depended  paste- 
board placards  bearing  mottoes  such  as, 
"  Ever  Ready,"  "  Watchful  while  Others 
Sleep,"  "  On  Time,"  and  various  statis- 
tical items  of  houses  saved  from  destruc- 
tion by  fire  during  the  past  year. 

From  the  rail  of  the  little  gallery  at 
the  rear  of  the  hall  hung  a  large  solar 
print  of  De  Vinney  in  his  uniform  as 
foreman  of  the  brigade.  Miller,  how- 
ever, in  spite  of  these  .drawbacks,  in- 


123 

wardly  determined  to  maintain  a  bold 
front,  and  smilingly  remarked  to  his 
Lawn  Club  friends  that  the  good  people 
of  the  village  had  contrived  to  make 
things  look  pretty  cheerful,  a  statement 
which  drove  Uncle  Chad  into  a  par- 
oxysm of  laughter  in  his  handkerchief, 
ending  in  a  violent  fit  of  coughing. 

The  curtain  rose,  as  De  Vinney  af- 
terward pointed  out  with  pardonable 
pride,  exactly  on  time  for  the  first  tab- 
leau—  the  marriage  of  Captain  John 
Smith  and  Pocahontas,  with  the  follow- 
ing cast  of  characters:  Captain  John 
Smith,  Dr.  S.  F.  Grew;  Pocahontas,  Mrs. 
J.  Brautigam ;  Clergyman,  Cal  Ebbitt; 
Indians,  soldiers,  settlers,  and  others. 
Dr.  Grew  was  a  mild,  studious  person, 
crestfallen  and  abashed  in  demeanor, 
who  had  been  persuaded  by  his  wife,  a 
lady  of  marked  social  aspirations,  to  take 


124 

part  in  the  programme.  His  costume 
comprised  a  brown  Heidelberg  hat  with 
a  feather,  a  heliotrope  plush  cape,  the 
property  of  his  wife,  and  a  large,  limp, 
Pierrot-like  ruffle  about  his  neck.  Like 
Strephon  in  "  lolanthe,"  Dr.  Grew  was  a 
fairy  only  down  to  the  waist,  as  histor- 
ical accuracy  had  not  been  attempted  in 
his  nether  garments,  which  consisted  of 
black -and -gray  trousers  tucked  into  a 
pair  of  rubber  boots. 

Mrs.  Brautigam,  who  represented  Po- 
cahontas,  was  a  stout,  portly  lady,  tight- 
ly laced,  whose  portrayal  of  the  charac- 
ter was  perhaps  a  shade  too  suggestive 
of  roguery  and  coquetry  to  fulfil  one's 
ideal  of  a  simple  child  of  the  primeval 
forest.  After  the  applause  had  subsided 
the  Starling  cornet  band  gave  a  selec- 
tion entitled  "  The  Woodland  Echo,"  in 
which  the  leader,  secreted  in  the  box- 


CAPTAIN   JOHN   SMITH 


127 

office,  represented  the  Echo,  always  com- 
ing in  a  little  too  soon  or  a  little  too 
late.  Then  the  curtain  rose  again  for 
a  recitation  by  De  Vinney  of  "  Horatius 
on  the  Bridge."  De  Vinney,  who  stood 
beside  a  small  black  desk  on  which  were 
a  pitcher  of  ice- water  and  a  glass,  was 
attired  in  his  ordinary  costume,  except 
that  he  had  wrapped  about  his  shoul- 
ders a  leopard -skin  rug,  which  he  had 
borrowed  somewhere,  and  which  gave 
out  a  strong  odor  of  mothaline.  Then 
followed  Miss  Mary's  tableau.  She  had 
carefully  drilled  some  of  the  better-look- 
ing boys  and  girls  of  the  neighborhood 
in  classic  attitudes,  and  with  the  help 
of  some  cheese-cloth  and  blossoming 
boughs  had  arranged  a  charming  frieze, 
which  was  rapturously  applauded. 

It  was  hard  for  Starling  to   realize 
that  the  poetic  shepherd  lad  in  the  fore- 


128 

ground,  in  straw-colored  chiton  and  san- 
dals, playing  on  pan  -  pipes,  was  Willie 
Nolan,  the  little  ragamuffin  who  brought 
round  the  morning  papers,  and  whose 
straight  nose  and  level  brows  had  al- 
ways excited  Miss  Mary's  admiration. 
The  next  number  on  the  programme 
was  evidently  regarded  by  the  Starling- 
ites  as  the  piece  de  resistance  of  the  even- 
ing. This  was  Joe  Brautigam  in  his 
comic  recitations.  First  came  the  world- 
famed  representation  of  a  ferry-boat  en- 
tering the  slip ;  then  the  soda  fountain 
of  De  Vinney  &  Eddy's  store,  which  re- 
ceived a  triple  encore,  and  afterwards 
the  cat-fight,  the  buzz-saw,  the  newsboy 
on  the  7.13  train,  and  the  negro  sur- 
prised by  the  farmer  while  robbing  the 
hen-roost.  Then  followed  a  duet,  enti- 
tled "  Two  Woodland  Sprites  are  We," 
rendered  by  Miss  Abeel,  soprano  of 


TWO   WOODLAND    SPRITES   ARE  WE" 


the  village  choir,  and  Mrs.  Shoonmak- 
er,  contralto.  Then  more  tableaux,  of 
which  the  most  successful  were,  "Wash- 
ington Crossing  the  Delaware,"  with  Dr. 
Grew  as  Washington ;  the  "  Puritan  Lov- 
ers," by  Mr. and  Mrs.Cal  Ebbitt;  "Faith, 
Hope,  and  Charity,"  by  Mrs.  Drinkwa- 
ter,  Miss  Abeel,  and  Miss  Runnels ;  the 
"Dawn  of  Liberty,"  with  Mrs.  Brauti- 
gam  as  Columbia ;  and  a  grand  final 
allegory,  entitled  "  Honor  to  Our  Fire- 
men," by  De  Vinney  and  the  entire 
company. 

After  this  the  floor  was  cleared  for 
dancing,  and  Miller,  noticing  that  the 
Lawn  Club  set  were  gathered  in  a  little 
knot  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  endeav- 
oring to  conceal  their  amusement  be- 
hind fans  and  handkerchiefs,  proceeded, 
with  a  great  show  of  merriment,  to  mar- 
shal them  about  and  introduce  them  to 


132 

various  of  the  local  lights  for  the  set  of 
lancers  which  was  just  forming.  This 
was  rather  a  funereal  performance,  in 
which  all  concerned  moved  about  slowly, 
as  if  actuated  by  a  stern  sense  of  duty ; 
and  little  Tommy  Mason,  who  had  been 
trying  to  make  himself  agreeable  to  Mrs. 
Cal  Ebbitt,  the  heroine  of  the  "  Puritan 
Lovers"  tableau,  when  offering  her  his 
arm  at  the  end  of  the  dance,  was  some- 
what staggered  by  her  remarking,"  Please 
to  escort  me  to  my  husband."  Mason, 
after  this  rebuff,  drifted  over  towards 
Miss  Abeel,  who,  in  reply  to  a  query 
whether  she  were  enjoying  the  enter- 
tainment, said  stoically  that  she  was 
very  practical ;  that  she  enjoyed  what 
she  had  to  enjoy.  But  later  he  received 
a  genuine  welcome  from  Mrs.  Joe  Brau- 
tigam,  who,  after  the  ceremonies  of  in- 
troduction, offered  him  half  of  her  chair, 


133 

and  asked  him  if  he  wasn't  ashamed  of 
himself  to  be  so  handsome. 

About  this  time  the  Lawn  Club  peo- 
ple began  to  drift  away,  and,  freed  from 
the  incubus  of  their  presence,  the  Star- 
lingites  gave  themselves  over  to  the  en- 
joyment of  the  occasion.  At  Uncle 
Chad's  request  three  colored  musicians 
— two  violins  and  a  guitar — were  sent 
for.  These  had  formerly  been  the  only 
performers  of  dance  music  in  Starling, 
but  had  lately  been  superseded  by  the 
cornet  band,  and  were  at  present  de- 
cidedly unfashionable.  They  hastily 
tuned  their  instruments  and  broke  into 
a  wild,  old-fashioned  quadrille,  the  first 
violin  acting  as  director  of  the  dance. 
This  was  hugely  enjoyed  by  Miss  Mary, 
Harford,  Uncle  Chad,  Mason,  and  Mrs. 
Brautigam,  who  found  themselves  in  the 
same  set ;  but  Miller  was  unable  to  fol- 


134 

low  the  intricacies  of  the  figures  which 
were  shouted  by  the  fiddler,  such  as 
"  Allymand  left,"  "  Dozy  ballanade," 
"  First  gentleman  counterfeit  to  the 
right/'  etc. ;  and  after  struggling  for  a 
while  under  the  critical  eye  of  Uncle 
Chad,  he  was  compelled  to  withdraw 
in  the  middle  of  the  dance. 

"  Well,"  said  Miller,  as  they  were  driv- 
ing home,  "  that  wasn't  such  a  bad  en- 
tertainment, was  it,  Harford  ?"  "  Not 
bad  at  all,"  Harford  answered,  heartily ; 
"  very  good  fun ;"  and  he  had  undoubt- 
edly enjoyed  it,  as  he  had  been  at  Miss 
Mary's  elbow  during  the  entire  evening. 

"  Well,"  interposed  Uncle  Chad,  "  it 
was  not  bad  if  you  don't  mind  what  you 
say;  but  let  me  tell  you,  Edward,  my 
boy,  you  will  never  sell  any  lots  on  Pros- 
pect Avenue  on  the  strength  of  that  per- 
formance. Why,  all  those  Lawn  Club 


ASKED    HIM    IF    HE    WASN  T    ASHAMED    OF    HIMSELF   TO    BE 

so  HANDSOME" 


137 

people  were  nearly  laughing  themselves 
to  death,  and — " 

"  'Sh !  Uncle  Chad ;  never  mind,"  from 
Mrs.  Miller  and  Miss  Mary ;  but  Uncle 
Chad  refused  to  be  silent,  and  continued 
to  twit  Miller  for  the  rest  of  the  drive. 
Two  weeks  later  Miller  disposed  of  his 
Prospect  Avenue  property  at  a  consid- 
erable sacrifice,  and  thereafter  no  one 
was  more  bitter  than  he  in  denuncia- 
tions of  the  locality.  "  Hot  as  a  furnace 
in  summer,"  he  explained  to  Harford, 
"cold  in  winter;  low,  marshy  land,  un- 
healthy and  undesirable  in  every  partic- 
ular," and  for  once  Uncle  Chad  entirely 
agreed  with  him. 


THE    PROFESSOR 


VII 

As  an  amateur  photographer  Mr. 
Miller  was  a  pronounced  success.  His 
apparatus  was  the  envy  of  all  the  other 
amateurs  of  Starling,  and  he  had  even 
invented  a  new  preparation  of  toning 
solution,  unrivalled  in  its  results.  Like 
many  other  photographers,  Miller,  in 
his  striving  after  technical  excellence 
and  professional  accuracy,  overlooked 
and  neglected  many  artistic  possibilities 
in  his  plates.  Clearness  and  sharpness 
of  definition  were  his  avowed  aims,  and 
in  his  photographs  every  hair  and  ev- 
ery blade  of  grass  must  stand  out  as 
they  never  did  in  nature.  Miss  Mary's 
room  was  adorned  with  various  photo- 


142 


graphs  of  the  children  and  of  little 
bits  of  landscape  where  charming  at- 
mospheric effects  had  been  arrived  at 
through  some  happy  accident  of  under 
or  over  exposure  or  some  faulty  adjust- 
ment of  focus.  But  Miller's  profession- 
al pride  would  not  tolerate  these  fail- 
ures, as  he  called  them,  and  after  Miss 
Mary  had  surreptitiously  secured  her 
prints  the  plates  were  destroyed.  For  a 
long  time  the  unstinted  admiration  of 
his  family  and  neighbors,  and  the  con- 
sciousness of  his  own  success,  wrere 
enough  for  Mr.  Miller's  encouragement 
along  the  paths  of  art,  but  at  last  he 
began  to  long  for  a  wider  recognition, 
and  made  up  his  mind  to  compete  for  a 
prize  offered  by  the  Amateur  Photo- 
graphic Union. 

For  some  weeks  before  the  competi- 
tion the  household  at  Starling  was  in  a 


M3 

condition  of  chaos.  Mrs.  Miller's  linen- 
closet  was  rifled  of  its  contents,  and 
sheets  and  table-cloths  for  reflected 
lights  were  hung  about  the  drawing- 
room  piazza  and  library.  The  coat- 
closet  was  turned  into  a  dark-room,  and 
not  infrequently  chemical  fluids  were 
dropped  on  Uncle  Chad's  umbrella  or 
into  his  overshoes.  Mr.  Miller,  after 
weeks  of  anxious  thought  and  experi- 
ment, had  at  last  decided  on  an  out- 
door classical  subject,  and  in  order  to 
insure  absolute  accuracy  of  detail  he 
invited  his  old  college  chum,  Profess- 
or Elmer  E.  Judd,  instructor  in  belles- 
lettres  at  Little  Falls  University,  and 
his  cousin,  Miss  Lavinia  Miller,  an  art 
student,  to  spend  a  few  days  and  confer 
with  him  on  points  of  light,  grouping, 
costume,  and  classic  composition. 

Professor  Judd,  or  "Prof.,"  as  Miller 


144 

usually  called  him — was  rather  a  seedy 
person,  whose  knowledge  covered  a 
wide  range.  He  could  talk  with  equal 
readiness  about  extinct  volcanoes  or  the 
most  approved  system  of  ensilage ;  he 
dabbled  a  little  in  water-colors,  took  a 
flier  once  in  a  while  in  gold-mines,  held 
theories  on  occultism  and  theosophy, 
argued  with  equal  readiness  on  protec- 
tion or  free  trade,  and  criticised  with 
hair-splitting  exactness  the  strong  or 
weak  points  of  every  book  that  was 
ever  published.  Miller  held  his  friend 
Judd  in  profound  admiration,  but  he 
was  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  Uncle  Chad, 
principally  because  he  was  disposed  to 
cavil  at  existence  on  this  planet,  hold- 
ing that  nature  generally  was  a  huge 
mistake,  while  Uncle  Chad  took  a 
straightforward,  wholesome  view  of  life. 
Then,  too,  Judd  had  a  way  of  downing 


145 

Uncle  Chad  at  various  games  of  cards 
and  mild  athletic  contests,  which  the 
old  gentleman  found  peculiarly  exas- 
perating. 

Harford  arrived  at  Starling  early  one 
Saturday  afternoon,  and  finding  the 
Miller  household  deserted,  was  directed 
by  the  gardener  to  a  wood  about  half  a 
mile  away,  where,  the  gardener  stated, 
"the  folks  was  gettin'  their  pictures  took." 

Harford  set  out  on  foot  for  the  place 
indicated,  and,  taking  a  short  -  cut  and 
breaking  through  some  underbrush,  sud- 
denly found  himself  in  a  sunlit  wood 
and  face  to  face  with  Miss  Mary,  who 
was  seated  on  a  mossy  ledge  of  rock, 
dressed  in  severely  classic  draperies 
that  were  admirably  becoming,  and 
holding  over  her  head  an  elaborate 
white  parasol.  At  a  little  distance  Mr. 
Miller,  in  his  shirt  -  sleeves,  assisted  by 


M6 

Professor  Judd,  was  setting  up  the  cam- 
era, while  they  carried  on  a  lively  dis- 
cussion with  Miss  Lavinia  Miller  about 
the  composition  of  the  picture.  Miss 
Miller  was  of  the  opinion  that  the  clas- 
sic was  played  out.  "  If,"  said  she, "  you 
would  pose  Mary  in  the  potato -field 
over  there,  in  the  left-hand  foreground 
of  the  picture,  dressed  in  her  new 
French  dress,  with  that  far-away  look 
in  her  eyes,  and  Nathan's  barn  in  the 
background,  and  just  that  one  stylish 
little  bare  sapling  in  the  very  middle  of 
the  picture,  you  would  have  something 
really  stunning  and  modern."  At  this 
point  Miss  Lavinia  was  interrupted  by 
Mrs.  Miller,  who  introduced  Mr.  Har- 
ford  to  her.  She  was  immediately  seized 
with  violent  admiration  for  the  lines  of 
his  brow  and  nose,  and  told  him  so  with 
gushing  frankness. 


149 

"  Oh,  oh  !"  said  she,  "  we  must  have  it 
classic,  after  all,  and  Mr.  Harford  must 
be  the  young  Alcibiades.  Think  of 
having  that  Phidian  nose  drop  in  on  us 
like  a  ray  of  light !" 

Judd :  "  Now  it's  all  very  well  about 
the  Phidian  nose,  but  the  ray  of  light  is 
a  very  different  matter.  Hagedorn,  in 
those  commentaries  of  his  on  light 
(Hagedorn  calls  them  commentaries, 
but  I  call  them  commercialisms,  be- 
cause they  were  spoken  and  written  to 
sell,  not  to  read) — Hagedorn  says  in  ef- 
fect that  light  on  the  human  profile  is  a 
clarified  type  of  the  beauty  of  life ;  but 
Mendham,  the  incomparable,  the  su- 
preme, shows  how  meaningless,  how 
dreary,  how  vacuous,  is  such  a  theory." 

Uncle  Chad:  "  Who  is  Mendham  ?" 

Judd :  "  Who  is  Mendham  ?  You 
might  as  well  ask  who  is  Ctesiphon,  or 


ISO 

Lopez,  or  Severance.  Who  is  Gannett, 
or  Bignetti,  or  Bolles  ?" 

Uncle  Chad :  "  Well,  what  does 
Mendham  have  to  say  on  the  nose 
question  ?" 

Judd:  "Why,  Mendham  proves  be- 
yond the  shadow  of  a  doubt  that  there 
is  no  light  and  no  beauty ;  hence  there 
can  be  no  combination  of  the  two." 

Uncle  Chad  :' "  Rubbish  !  And  does 
he  prove  there  is  no  nose  ?" 

Mrs.  Miller:  "Oh,  never  mind,  Uncle 
Chad ;  it's  getting  late,  and  the  children 
must  get  back  in  time  for  their  supper. 
Lavinia,  my  dear,  what  do  you  want 
Mr.  Harford  to  do?"  (Harford  had 
meanwhile  strolled  away  ivith  Miss 
Mary,  iinder  the  pretext  of  finding  some 
more  Jlower  ing  bushes  for  garlands^) 

Miss  Miller  (shouting) :  "  Come  back, 
Mr.  Harford,  come  back  !  We  can't  al- 


low  you  to  escape  in  this  way.  Come 
back,  and  bring  your  nose  with  you. 
We  can  never  take  the  prize  unless  we 
have  you  in  this  group."  (Harford  and 
Miss  Mary  slowly  return  and  rejoin  the 
others?)  "  Here  is  a  Greek  dress  that 
Mr.  Cressy  the  artist  loaned  me — chi- 
ton, himation,  sandals,  and  everything." 

Judd  (critically  examining  the  draper- 
ies) :  "  Not  a  bad  texture,  but  the  warp 
of  the  Greek  weaving  was  undoubtedly 
a  very  different  thing." 

Miss  Miller:  "Oh,  well,  we  won't 
bother  about  the  warp ;  the  effect  is  all 
right.  Now,  Mr.  Harford,  you  must  go 
to  Nathan's  barn  and  put  these  on,  and 
Mr.  Chadwick  will  help  you." 

Uncle  Chad  emphatically  declined, 
assuring  them  that  he  did  not  know  the 
right  side  from  the  wrong,  nor  which 
was  the  top  of  the  things  and  which  the 


152 

bottom.  Harford  protested  that,  never 
having  been  accustomed  to  himations, 
he  should  feel  and  look  like  a  fool  in 
one,  and  with  great  difficulty  persuaded 
Miss  Miller  to  let  him  off.  Mrs.  Miller, 
who  had  partly  undressed  the  children 
and  taken  off  their  shoes  and  stockings, 
to  have  them  ready  for  posing,  and  who 
was  holding  them  both  in  her  capacious 
motherly  lap,  here  lost  patience,  and 
said  that  something  must  be  done  at 
once,  before  the  children  caught  dread- 
ful colds.  After  this  the  scene  of  con- 
fusion was  indescribable.  Harford  could 
offer  no  help,  except  in  the  way  of  oc- 
casionally passing  a  plate-holder  from 
the  trembling  and  excited  Miller  to 
Professor  Judd,  or  getting  a  stone  to 
prop  up  one  of  the  legs  of  the  camera. 

At  last  Miss  Mary  and  the  children 
and  the  blossoms  were  arranged  to  ev- 


iiKCv  c. .  ir> n  &TWW i)  i> o\^ 


"DEEPLY   INTERESTED   IN   HER   SKETCH" 


155 

erybody's  satisfaction,  and  Miss  Lavinia 
Miller  had  given  the  last  touch  to  the 
drapery.  But  the  children  were  tired 
and  Miller  was  nervous,  and  it  took  all 
Miss  Mary's  good  temper  and  tact  to 
save  the  situation ;  but  save  it  she  did, 
and  after  several  disheartening  failures 
and  rearrangements  of  poses  and  dra- 
peries, they  got  three  excellent  expos- 
ures. As  there  was  one  plate  left,  some 
one  suggested  a  group,  and  Professor 
Judd  said  he  would  arrange  it. 

Judd :  "  Now,  Miss  Burnham,  will  you 
sit  on  the  end  of  that  beech  log  and 
turn  your  face  away  from  the  camera  ?" 

Miller:  "I  think  you  are  wrong 
there,  Prof.  Mary  ought  to  be  looking 
directly  at  the  camera." 

Judd:  "Wrong?  Not  a  bit  of  it. 
Young  women,  to  quote  Mendham  again, 
should  never  appear  in  portraiture  other 


156 

than  with  averted  face,  for  youth  cannot 
bear  to  gaze  full  at  the  grim  complex- 
ities of  later  life.  Mr.  Harford  may 
have  a  profile  view,  as  Miss  Lavinia 
suggests.  Mr.  Chadwick,  you,  as  the 
veteran  of  the  party,  will  kindly  look 
straight  before  you.  You  know  what 
life  is." 

Uncle  Chad :  "  I  do,  and  I've  man- 
aged to  enjoy  it,  too." 

Judd  (disregarding  him) :  "  Now,  then, 
all  ready?" 

Miller:  "Oh,  wait  a  moment — wait! 
I  forgot  to  put  in  the  plate." 

Uncle  Chad  (sarcastically)'.  "That's 
rather  a  serious  omission." 

Miss  Mary:  "Never  mind,  Uncle 
Chad  ;  it  only  takes  a  moment." 

Judd  (dreamily] :  "  Yes,  but  a  moment 
is  history,  my  dear  Miss  Burnham,  and 
history  is  mystery.  Strange  as  it  may 


seem  to  the  casual  thinker,  the  past  is 
deeper  hidden  than  the  future.' 

Uncle  Chad:,  "How  do  you  work 
that  out  ?" 

Judd:  "By  geometry,  my  dear  sir, 
which  is  the  only  lasting  truth,  and  by 
Niedlinger,  who  is  the  only  true  geom- 
etrician. Niedlinger's  geometrical  al- 
lusions are  nothing  like  as  spicy  as 
Beal's ;  they  don't  bite ;  but  at  the  same 
time  he  enters  very  keenly  into  the 
metaphysics  of  the  geometric  axioms. 
Now,  then,  all  ready  ?" 

The  plate  was  properly  adjusted  this 
time,  and  Miller  was  just  about  to 
squeeze  the  bulb  when  Miss  Lavinia 
shrieked,  "  Wait !"  and  made  a  dash  at 
Harford,  as  she  said,  to  push  his  nose 
a  little  nearer  to  the  afternoon  sun. 

This  interruption  demoralized  the 
group.  The  children  turned  around  to 


158 

stare  at  Harford,  and  Uncle  Chad  threw 
both  legs  entirely  out  of  focus.  After 
a  time,  however,  quiet  was  restored,  and 
Miller  secured  what  he  called  a  good 
definition.  Then  the  party  started  for 
home  by  the  short-cut  across  the  road ; 
but  Miss  Mary,  who  looked,  as  Harford 
thought,  a  dream  of  beauty,  with  her 
classic  dress  partly  covered  by  a  light 
shawl,  thought  she  had  better  go  by  the 
wood  path.  Of  course,  at  this  hour  they 
were  not  likely  to  meet  any  one  but 
Brisbane  going  to  the  train,  or  possibly 
De  Vinney  on  his  bicycle,  but  she  did 
not  want  to  startle  even  them.  Harford 
welcomed  this  suggestion,  which  would 
have  so  admirably  suited  his  own  plans, 
had  not  those  plans  been  brought  to 
naught  by  Miss  Miller,  who  followed 
them  with  a  kodak,  and  kept  dashing 
out  from  behind  bushes  to  catch  snap- 


shot  views  of  his  nose.  When  they  got 
home  Mrs.  Miller  dispensed  tea  on  the 
cool,  shaded  piazza;  and  Miss  Mary, 
after  changing  her  dress,  leaned  back 
exhausted  among  the  sofa  cushions, 
while  Harford,  cup  in  hand,  sank  con- 
tentedly in  a  comfortable  chair  near  by. 

At  this  juncture  Miss  Lavinia  Miller, 
brisk  and  energetic,  and  carrying  a 
sketching  -  block  and  crayons,  rushed 
into  the  room  and  implored  Harford  to 
pose  for  her.  She  had  to  illustrate 
something  for  a  Western  paper,  and  he 
was  just  what  she  wanted  for  the  hero. 
Harford  consented,  and  stood  with  one 
foot  upon  a  chair  lighting  a  cigarette 
until  dinner-time. 

Miss  Miller  became  deeply  interested 
in  her  sketch,  and  after  dinner  begged 
for  half  an  hour  more.  Harford  felt 
that  he  must  be  obliging,  to  make  up 


1 62 

for  his  refusal  to  wear  a  himation,  so  he 
posed  again,  still  in  the  act  of  lighting 
a  cigarette,  and  wishing  that  he  might 
be  allowed  to  smoke  it.  He  was  ex- 
tremely uncomfortable,  and  was  vexed 
in  spirit  because  Professor  Judd  was 
trying  to  hypnotize  Miss  Mary  —  an 
operation  which  obliged  him  to  pass 
his  hands  many  times  over  her  saintly 
brow. 

Later  in  the  evening  Miller  emerged 
from  the  dark-room,  flushed,  dishevelled, 
and  smiling,  and  announced  that  he 
thought  he  had  secured  a  prize-winner. 
The  picture  was  duly  finished  and 
printed,  and  was  christened  "  The  Feast 
of  Flora."  Mrs.  Miller  was  not  entirely 
satisfied  with  it,  because  it  did  not  show 
enough  of  little  Jack's  face,  but  every 
one  else  was  enthusiastic ;  and  after 
about  two  weeks  of  suspense  Miller 


1 63 


received  word  from  the  Photographic 
Union  that  he  had  taken  first  prize  for 
definition,  arrangement  of  lights,  group- 
ing, and  general  artistic  excellence. 


THE   LAWN-TENNIS   MATCH 


VIII 

STARLING  was  all  agog  over  the  pros- 
pects of  a  tennis-match  in  which  some 
of  the  third-rate  players  in  one  of  the 
first-class  matches  had  promised  to  com- 
pete. Miller,  with  ill-suppressed  excite- 
ment, had  confided  to  Bolles,  the  insur- 
ance man,  that  Gerrish — Gerrish,  you 
know,  who  was  runner-up  at  the  Wil- 
lowdale  tournament  —  had  entered  his 
name,  and  there  was  a  prospect  that 
they  might  get  Hoag,  the  Western 
crack,  although  this  was  doubtful,  as 
Hoag  might  have  to  go  back  to  Lake 
Minnetonka  for  the  All- Comers.  In 
any  event,  they  were  sure  of  Mere- 
dith, Ackerman,  Smith,  Sproull  of  Fall 


T68 

River,  young  McNaught,  etc.  Miller 
said  he  didn't  believe  that  any  place 
outside  of  Newport  or  Tuxedo  could 
show  up  any  such  list  of  names  as  that. 
Bolles,  who  was  vice-president  and  gen- 
eral manager  of  the  Mapleside  Play- 
ground Sodality,  where  the  matches 
were  to  be  played,  rushed  off  to  com- 
municate the  news  to  the  editor  of  the 
Clarion,  and  soon  all  Starling  was  alive 
with  enthusiasm,  from  Centre  Street  to 
Locust  Row.  Harford  had  been  in- 
vited to  spend  the  night  at  the  Millers' 
and  go  to  the  match,  and  perhaps  for 
the  twentieth  time  he  resolved  to  ask 
the  fateful  question  which  should  make 
or  mar  his  destinies. 

It  was  a  beautiful  September  after- 
noon, and  Harford  was  hoping  that  he 
would  have  a  chance  for  a  quiet  walk 
with  Miss  Mary  to  the  grounds,  which 


i6g 

were  about  a  mile  and  a  half  distant. 
He  walked  slowly  up  and  down  the  pi- 
azza, trying  to  calm  himself,  while  Mil- 
ler was  bustling  about,  making  hurried 
trips  to  the  stable,  and  wrangling  with 
the  coachman  as  to  whether  the  stable 
clock  was  not  two  minutes  fast  by  rail- 
road time.  Mrs.  Miller  moved  calmly 
about  among  a  throng  of  shouting  chil- 
dren, each  one  clamoring  to  sit  up  in 
front  with  John  or  to  hold  the  whip. 
When  they  were  at  last  sorted  out  and 
seated  in  the  carriage,  Miss  Mary  ap- 
peared at  the  door,  smiling,  and  button- 
ing her  glove,  and  exclaiming  on  the 
beauty  of  the  day — so  perfect  for  a  long, 
brisk  walk.  At  this  point  Harford  was 
appalled  by  a  wail  from  the  children  in 
the  carriage :  "  Oh,  I  want  to  walk  with 
Aunt  Mary  !  Ple-e-ease,  mamma,  can't 
I  walk  with  Aunt  Mary?"  And  after 


170 

much  discussion  and  arrangement  and 
rearrangement  it  was  finally  decided 
that  little  Jack  and  Marian  and  one  of 
the  young  cousins,  Russell  Burnham, 
should  walk  with  Miss  Mary  and  Har- 
ford. 

This  unexpectedly  depressing  turn  in 
affairs  so  disconcerted  Harford  for  a 
time  that  he  could  neither  think  nor 
speak ;  but  after  a  little,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  cool,  clear  air  and  Miss 
Mary's  dancing  eyes  and  brilliant  color, 
his  good  spirits  began  to  return,  and  he 
found  himself  good-humoredly  answer* 
ing  the  questions  of  the  children,  who 
hung  about  his  coat  -  tails  or  walked 
backward  directly  in  front  of  him,  anx- 
ious to  catch  every  word  of  the  conver- 
sation. 

"  Were  you  strong  when  you  were  at 
college,  Mr.  Harford?" 


Oh,  he  didn't  remember  that  he  was 
especially  strong ;  so  so — about  the  av- 
erage. 

"  What  was  the  last  record  for  high 
jumping?" 

Harford  hazarded  a  guess,  but  was 
immediately  floored  by  young  Russell 
Burnham,  who  gave  the  correct  figures 
within  a  fraction  of  an  inch. 

"  Did  you  ever  play  ball  any  ?"  Now 
this  was  rather  a  tender  point  with  Har- 
ford, and  he  launched  out  into  a  pro- 
tracted tale,  which,  it  must  be  confessed, 
was  rather  tedious,  as  to  how  he  had 
been  left  off  the  university  nine  because 
the  captain  wanted  to  put  one  of  his 
own  friends  in,  and  the  man  had  never 
made  a  very  brilliant  record,  and  he 
thought  afterwards  that  the  captain  had 
always  regretted  it ;  but  since  then  he 
and  the  captain  had  been  very  good 


174 

friends,  and  perhaps  the  captain  should 
not  be  blamed  for  his  share  in  the  mat- 
ter, etc. 

The  children,  after  listening  with  rapt 
interest  to  this  thrilling  narrative,  unan- 
imously expressed  a  desire  that  Harford 
should  throw  a  tennis-ball  for  them— 
"like  you  used  to  throw  from  centre 
field  into  home."  Now  here  was  an 
opening,  Harford  thought,  for  his  dec- 
laration to  Miss  Mary.  He  must  be 
brief  and  concise,  and  she  must  be 
quick  of  response,  but  why  not  make 
a  try  for  it  ?  So,  taking  the  tennis-ball, 
he  hurled  it  with  all  his  strength  and 
skill  over  the  fences  into  a  distant  field, 
and  then  started  all  the  children  run- 
ning after  it.  Miss  Mary  laughed,  and 
urged  them  on  in  the  race.  "  Now," 
thought  Harford, "  now  is  my  time,  if  I 
can  only  think  how  to  tell  her." 


175 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  Gerrish  play  ?" 
said  Miss  Mary. 

"  Er — yes,"  he  answered,  huskily.  "  Er 
—Miss  Mary,  I  often — " 

"  I  never  saw  anything  so  graceful  as 
those  backhand  drives  of  his  down  the 
side  of  the  court.  Isn't  it  wonderful  the 
way  he  does  it?" 

"  Yes,  very ;  but  I  was  just  thinking, 
Miss  Mary — I  have  been  hoping— 

And  at  this  juncture  there  was  a  sharp 
ringing  of  a  bicycle  bell  just  behind 
them,  and,  turning  about,  they  saw  De 
Vinney,  bent  over  like  an  attenuated 
wasp,  and  ploughing  away  on  the  ped- 
als with  dismal  earnestness.  And  then 
the  children  joined  them  again,  laugh- 
ing and  panting,  and  Harford  had  to 
give  it  up;  but  he  fancied  he  saw  a 
changed  expression  in  Miss  Mary's  eyes 
as  she  glanced  towards  him,  and  it  made 


i76 

him  cheerfully  buoyant  for  the  rest  of 
the  day,  in  spite  of  De  Vinney's  unwel- 
come companionship. 

"  Good  -  afternoon,  Miss  Mary.  Mr. 
Harford,  good -day,"  said  De  Vinney, 
moving  slowly  along  beside  them.  "  El- 
egant afternoon  for  the  tournament,  and 
a  great  day  for  Starling.  Lyndhurst's 
been  trying  to  get  those  first-class  play- 
ers every  day  for  the  last  two  weeks,  but 
they  ain't  in  it,  as  the  feller  says — they 
ain't  in  it  with  Starling.  Biggest  crowd, 
I  guess,  they  ever  had  on  the  Sodality 
grounds.  I  counted  seventeen  stran- 
gers myself  that  came  up  on  the  2.04, 
and  Brisbane's  just  gone  back  for  his 
sixth  load.  Tennis-player  yourself,  Mr. 
Harford?"  Harford  admitted  that  he 
took  up  a  racquet  once  in  a  while,  and 
Miss  Mary  added:  "Yes,  Mr.  Harford 
is  a  beautiful  player.  I  am  quite  sure 


-t- 


LAWN-TENNIS 


179 

he  would  be  among  the  first  at  New- 
port if  he  ever  had  time  to  practise." 

"  Well,  it  must  be  a  scientific  pastime, 
but  it  is  one  in  which  I  have  never  had 
leisure  to  participate,"  said  De  Vinneyv 
rather  with  the  air  of  a  Fourth-of-July 
oration.  So  they  walked  on  and  talked, 
and  De  Vinney  entertained  them  with 
a  variety  of  local  anecdotes,  until  they 
reached  the  tennis -ground,  where  all 
was  bustle  and  excitement. 

It  was  a  pretty  place,  with  a  smooth 
lawn,  and  a  little  club-house  and  stand 
at  one  end  of  the  field,  where  were  gath- 
ered together  the  good  people  of  Star- 
ling, talking  briskly,  and  congratulating 
one  another  on  the  attractiveness  of 
their  town  as  this  or  that  celebrity  drove 
up  from  the  Lawn  Club  or  from  the 
various  country  places  about  the  neigh- 
borhood. 


iSo 

Miller  and  Bolles  were  here,  there, 
and  everywhere,  making  energetic  but 
hopeless  attempts  to  get  the  carriages 
in  a  line  heading  south,  and  distributing 
programmes,  comparing  watches,  and 
holding  solemn  conferences,  which  sel- 
dom seemed  to  result  in  effective  ac- 
tion. 

Mr.  T.  S.  Johnstone  Leigh  drove  Miss 
Landon  from  the  Lawn  Club  in  a  smart- 
looking  trap,  and  succeeded  in  throwing 
Miller  into  a  whirlwind  of  confusion  by 
directing  his  groom  to  take  the  horses 
to  a  part  of  the  field  which  Miller  said 
should  be  kept  clear  in  case  of  fire  in 
the  club-house.  The  engines  never 
could  get  through,  Miller  explained,  if 
that  particular  spot  were  blocked.  Mil- 
ler argued  for  some  time  with  the  groom, 
who  stolidly  declined  to  stir,  on  the 
ground  that  'e  'ad  'is  borders,  sir ;  and 


i8r 

he  was  received  by  Leigh  with  a  mur- 
mured ejaculation  of  "  Oh,  rot !"  when 
he  made  an  attempt  to  show  him  a 
type-written  set  of  rules  and  regula- 
tions. Leigh  declined  to  even  glance 
at  them,  and  without  changing  expres- 
sion he  moved  slowly  away,  lit  an  Al 
Raschid  cigarette,  and  stood  aloof  and 
motionless,  except  when  he  took  a  lazy 
puff  from  the  cigarette.  He  was  pres- 
ently joined  by  Billy  Merriam,  a  sturdy, 
smooth  -  shaven,  ruddy-cheeked  young 
man,  perfectly  dressed,  and  a  past-mas- 
ter in  the  art  of  slang. 

"  Hullo,  Leigh,  old  sport !"  said  Mer- 
riam. "  You  seem  to  be  lost  in  a  Staf- 
fordshire trance.  What's  worryin' you?" 

Leigh  murmured  something  uncom- 
plimentary about  Miller,  and  then  ask- 
ed Merriam  whether  he  would  liquor. 
They  went  to  the  club-house,  and  Leigh 


182 

ordered  brandy -and -soda,  while  Merri- 
am  asked  for  a  little  plain  goods  and 
H20. 

"What?"  said  he  —  "  don't  under- 
stand ?  Why,  whiskey  -  and  -  water,  of 
course ;  and  make  it  light,  because  I'm 
attached  to  a  party  of  fairies  on  the 
grounds,  and  I  don't  want  to  get  too  at- 
tractive before  sunset.  Well,  English, 
here's  at  you  !"  And  Merriam  took  his 
tipple,  and  hurried  back  to  the  games 
in  time  for  the  first  round  of  the 
finals  between  Gerrish  and  young  Mc- 
Naught 

In  the  meantime  Harford  and  the 
Miller  party  had  secured  good  places 
near  the  principal  court,  and  were  watch- 
ing the  game  with  intense  interest.  De 
Vinney  hovered  about,  asking  questions 
about  the  players,  and  cheering  frequent- 
ly at  inopportune  moments,  as  he  ex- 


LEIGH   LIT   AN   AL   RASCHID   CIGARETTE 


135 

plained,  "  for  the  honor  of  Starling,  and 
to  keep  things  moving." 

Merriam  whispered  to  Harford  that 
if  that  jay  in  the  bicycle  suit  didn't  take 
a  fall  out  of  himself  the  town  militia 
would  have  to  be  called  out,  and  Leigh 
would  probably  go  back  to  England  for 
good. 

The  finals  were  intensely  exciting, 
and  when  young  McNaught  pulled  out 
the  last  game  with  a  tremendous  back- 
hand stroke  down  the  side  line,  even 
Leigh  forgot  himself  for  a  moment,  and 
gave  a  loud  "Whoo-oo-hoop !"  while 
Billy  Merriam,  who  had  won  ten  dollars 
on  the  result,  executed  a  song-and-dance, 
as  he  described  it,  on  the  piazza  of  the 
club-house,  and  Uncle  Chad  shouted 
himself  hoarse.  After  the  games  there 
was  a  wild  rush  for  the  stages  and  oth- 
er vehicles,  which  Miller  had  gathered 


1 86 

together  in  an  inextricable  mass  at  the 
lower  end  of  the  grounds.  Miller  rushed 
about  from  one  to  another,  shouting  di- 
rections from  his  type-written  rules,  and 
had  several  narrow  escapes  from  being 
run  over.  In  the  confusion  Harford 
managed  to  draw  Miss  Mary  away  from 
the  rest  of  the  party,  and  walked  home 
with  her  alone  by  a  circuitous  wooded 
path  which  he  had  discovered  in  his 
wandering  about  the  place.  He  never 
knew  exactly  how  it  happened,  but  the 
next  morning  he  floated  into  a  tele- 
graph -  office  and  wrote  the  following 
message  to  his  friend  Parker  in  Wyo- 
ming : 

"  Luckiest  man   in  the   world.     En- 
gaged to  Miss  M.  B.  BILL." 


THE    NAPHTHA    LAUNCH 


IX 

THE  day  after  the  happy  event  had 
taken  place  Harford  received  a  brief 
communication  signed  "M.  B.,"  which 
he  read  not  less  than  thirty  times.  It 
stated  that  Colonel  Atterbury  had  lent 
them  the  launch  for  Friday  afternoon, 
and  couldn't  he  come  out  for  a  quiet 
little  sail  to  Brant  Island  ?  Harford 
rather  thought  he  could  go,  and  he 
stepped  on  the  train  on  that  day,  hav- 
ing progressed  so  far  towards  suburban- 
ism  as  to  procure  a  commutation  ticket. 
He  studied  it  closely,  and  indignant- 
ly noted  that  no  allowance  was  made 
for  Sunday  journeys.  Visions  floated 
through  his  brain  of  a  blissful  sail  with 


igo 

Mary — it  was  Miss  Mary  no  longer — 
to  Brant  Island,  and  a  dreamy  return 
in  the  twilight,  with  a  few  hours  on  the 
piazza  after  dinner,  under  the  moon- 
light. Arrived  at  the  Miller  house,  he 
found  a  large  party  awaiting  him. 
There  were  Mrs.  Marsh  and  her  little 
boy  Henry,  Mrs.  Miller,  Uncle  Chad, 
Russell  Burnham,  Jack,  Marian,  and 
two  or  three  inevitable  cousins. 

As  this  was  his  first  visit  since  the 
engagement,  he  was  subjected  to  all 
manner  of  congratulation  and  hand- 
shaking. Mrs.  Miller  gave  him  a  rather 
sombre  kiss,  Uncle  Chad  slapped  him 
on  the  back  and  dragged  him  into  the 
dining-room,  where  he  went  through  a 
mysterious  ceremony  with  a  bunch  of 
keys,  a  corkscrew,  and  a  bottle  of  Apol- 
linaris  water,  and  young  Russell  Burn- 
ham  hung  on  his  arm,  asserting  that 


they  could  play  ball  together  all  right 
now  without  bothering  about  things. 
This  did  not  look  much  like  a  quiet 
afternoon  and  honeyed  hours  in  the 
moonlight  after  dinner;  but  Harford 
was  in  a  rapturous  frame  of  mind,  and 
smilingly  helped  to  carry  the  wraps  and 
rugs  down  to  the  wharf,  with  Mary  at 
his  side,  and  the  children  racing  and 
chattering  about  his  heels.  The  party 
settled  themselves  comfortably  in  the 
launch,  with  Uncle  Chad  at  the  wheel, 
and  soon  they  were  speeding  away 
towards  Brant  Island,  about  ten  miles 
distant.  Uncle  Chad  was  for  allowing 
Harford  and  Mary  about  half  the  boat 
all  to  themselves,  but  the  children 
would  not  leave  them  for  k>ng,  and 
Miss  Mary,  as  usual,  encouraged  their 
advances. 

"Julia,"   said    Mrs.    Miller    to    Mrs. 


Marsh,  "  where,  may  I  ask,  did  you  get 
that  sailor  suit  of  Henry's  ?"  Mrs.  Mil- 
ler and  her  friend  were  sitting  on  oppo- 
site sides  of  the  boat,  and  were  obliged 
to  talk  across  Harford. 

"  I  got  it  at  the  usual  place — Chapin 
&  Westover's.  Why  do  you  ask  ?" 

"  Because,  Julia,  that  is  exactly  the 
kind  of  suit  I  have  been  trying  to  get 
for  Jack  for  the  past  six  months.  You 
know,  I  have  the  utmost  difficulty  about 
Jack's  clothes.  He  is  not  seven  yet, 
and  I  always  have  to  tell  the  man  to 
show  me  nine-year-old  things.  It's  the 
same  way  with  shoes  and  everything. 
He's  so  much  beyond  his  years  in  point 
of  size,  and  it  seems  as  if  things  never 
lasted  him  more  than  two  days*" 

"  Well,  Ellen,  if  I  were  you  I  would 
try  Chapin  &  Westover's.  I'm  sure 
they—" 


"DOWN  TO  THE  WHARF" 


195 

"  Julia  Marsh,  I  have  tried  Chapin  & 
Westover's  fifty  times,  if  I  have  tried  it 
once.  That  man  Hubbell,  who  has 
been  there  so  many  years  in  charge  of 
the  children's  department —  By-the- 
way,  William"  (this  to  Harford)— "  I 
suppose  I'm  to  call  you  William  now — 
as  I  was  saying,  it  will  interest  you  to 
know  that  I  used  to  go  to  Hubbell,  at 
Chapin  &  Westover's,  to  order  Mary's 
dresses  when  she  was  a  little  girl." 

Mary  and  Harford  smile  on  one  an- 
other, and  Uncle  Chad  joins  in  with: 
"  She  was  the  prettiest  little  girl  you 
ever  saw,  Harford,  my  boy." 

"  You  ought  never  to  think  of  going 
to  Hubbell,  Ellen.  He  is  so  old,  he 
does  not  know  one  thing  from  another, 
and  my  belief  is  that  they  only  keep 
him  out  of  charity." 

During    this     conversation    Harford 


made  a  feint  of  pointing  out  some  ob- 
jects of  interest  on  the  shore,  and  man- 
aged to  get  Miss  Mary  seated  near  the 
bow  of  the  boat,  where  Uncle  Chad  af- 
fected to  be  deeply  interested  in  the 
workings  of  the  wheel,  and  at  some 
personal  inconvenience  kept  his  head 
averted  in  order  to  give  the  young  peo- 
ple a  chance  for  a  quiet  talk.  The 
cousins  and  little  boys  were  in  the 
stern,  watching  the  man  at  the  engine, 
and  a  delightful  quiet  prevailed.  The 
boat  rushed  happily  through  the  little 
waves,  whose  lapping  drowned  whis- 
pered conferences  about  important  and 
delightful  plans  for  the  future. 

Mrs.  Marsh's  voice  broke  the  charmed 
stillness.  u  Ellen,"  said  she,  running 
her  fingers  down  the  back  of  Marian's 
neck,  "do  you  think  it  is  right  to  let 
that  child  wear  such  thin  under-shirts, 


197 

at  any  time  of  the  year?  I  don't  see 
how  you  dare  to  risk  it —  Oh,  she  does 
wear  bands  ?  Well,  I'm  glad  to  hear  it. 
I  keep  a  red -flannel  band  on  Henry 
winter  and  summer." 

The  children  were  summoned,  and 
their  wearing  apparel  was  examined 
and  discussed.  Mrs.  Miller  thought 
Henry  must  be  uncomfortable  in  such 
warm  stockings. 

"  Ellen !"  Mrs.  Marsh  almost  scream- 
ed, "  you  dorit  mean  to  say  that  you 
have  put  Jack  in  cotton  stockings  be- 
fore he  has  finished  cutting  his  six-year- 
old  molars !"  And  the  unwilling  Jack 
was  seized  upon  and  made  to  open  his 
mouth  and  show  his  back  teeth. 

Then  followed  teething  stories ;  and 
then  Mrs.  Marsh,  who  was  a  nervous 
person,  and  always  more  or  less  ill  at 
ease,  complained  that  the  odor  of  the 


198 

naphtha  made  her  feel  a  little  faint,  and 
she  was  so  sorry  to  give  trouble,  but 
would  Mr.  Harford  be  so  kind  as  to 
change  places  with  her  ?  She  felt  as  if 
the  breeze  in  the  bow  of  the  boat  would 
be  so  very  refreshing. 

Harford,  of  course,  rose  to  make  the 
change,  and  as  he  did  so  was  gratified 
to  see  that  Uncle  Chad  was  making  a 
wry  face  over  his  starboard  shoulder — a 
sort  of  stage  aside  expressing  sympathy 
and  regret  that  the  tete-a-tete  had  been 
interrupted. 

"  Ellen,"  shouted  Mrs.  Marsh,  who  ap- 
peared to  revive  quickly  in  the  bow, 
"did  Mrs.  Freeman's  children  come 
through  the  measles  easily  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,  indeed ;  no  trouble  at  all. 
You  know,  she  had  Dr.  Gibson.  He  is 
without  question  the  best  man  for  mea- 
sles in  Starling." 


"  Better  than  Dr.  Black,  do  you 
think  ?" 

"  Oh,  much  better !  I  believe  Gibson 
is  quite  famous ;  written  two  or  three 
treatises." 

"  How  long  did  Mrs.  Freeman  fumi- 
gate ?  Do  you  suppose  she  did  it  thor- 
oughly ?  Did  she—" 

"  Harford,"  interrupted  Uncle  Chad, 
peremptorily,  "  come  up  in  the  bow.  I 
want  to  show  you  where  the  point  of 
the  reef  is.  There !  you  see  that  buoy  ?" 
Then  he  added,  sotto  voce,  to  Harford, 
"  If  that  woman  doesn't  stop  talking 
about  fumigating  things  I'll  scuttle  the 
ship." 

But  Mrs.  Marsh  was  not  to  be  choked 
off,  and  as  questions  of  hygiene  occu- 
pied her  mind  above  all  others,  she 
branched  off  on  another  subject  of  in- 
quiry. 


202 


"  Mary,"  she  began,  in  a  persuasive 
tone,  "  have  you  thought  at  all  where 
you  will  settle  down  ?  Matters  of  this 
kind,  you  know,  can't  be  considered  too 
soon." 

Miss  Burnham,  somewhat  confused, 
said  that  they  had  given  the  subject  no 
attention  as  yet  Mrs.  Miller  hoped  it 
would  be  somewhere  near  their  own 
house. 

"Yes,"  said  Uncle  Chad;  "I  know 
just  the  site  for  a  cosey  little  house  on 
the  lowland  about  four  hundred  yards 
south  of  us." 

"  Why,  Ellen,"  said  Mrs.  Marsh,  "  Mr. 
Chadwick  can't  refer  to  the  place  you 
pointed  out  to  me  this  morning?" 

"  Yes,"  Mrs.  Miller  said,  "  that  is  the 
place." 

"  For  pity's  sakes  !"  said  Mrs.  Marsh. 
"  That  spot  is  a  hot-bed  of  malaria.  It 


203 

is  notorious ;  all  the  doctors  are  talking 
about  it." 

"  Julia  Marsh,"  said  Mrs.  Miller,  se- 
verely, "  such  a  thing  as  malaria  was 
never  known  in  Starling.  There  was 
never  a  case  here — at  least,  never  one 
that  originated  here.  I  suppose  you 
refer  to  those  people  who  lived  near  you 
in  town,  who  came  out  to  Starling  after 
living  in  a  house  reeking  with  sewer-gas, 
and  this  air  brought  it  all  out.  Our  air 
brings  out  malaria,  but  no  such  thing 
ever  originated  here.  It  does  not  exist. 
So  there !" 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Marsh,  doggedly, 
"  why  did  Dr.  Goodenow  leave  here  ? 
He  told  me  with  his  own  lips  that  he 
had  to  give  up  the  place  because  his 
wife's  head  was  nearly  shaken  off  with 
chills  and  his  children  were  miserable." 

"  Yes,"  Mrs.  Miller  said,  impressively, 


204 

"  why  did  he  leave  here  ?  For  the  reason, 
Julia  Marsh,  that  he  was  such  a  poor 
physician  nobody  would  have  him.  His 
wife  was  a  good  enough  little  woman, 
but  absolutely  lacking  in  common-sense. 
Head  nearly  shaken  off  indeed !  It 
wouldn't  have  been  a  very  grave  loss 
if  she  had  shaken  it  off  altogether." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Marsh,  gazing  list- 
lessly at  the  horizon,  "  Doctor  Good- 
enow  has  a  most  exhaustive  knowledge 
of  materia  medica,  and  that  always  car- 
ries great  weight  with  me.  By-the-way, 
about  that  land  Mr.  Chadwick  was 
speaking  of — wouldn't  one  be  very  much 
troubled  with  flies  from  the  Grand  View 
Hotel  ?" 

Controversies  of  this  kind  had  gone 
on  between  Mrs.  Miller  and  her  dear 
Julia  for  the  past  fifteen  years,  as  Uncle 
Chad  knew,  but  nevertheless  they  con- 


205 

tinued  to  be  bosom  friends.  Uncle 
Chad  also  knew  that  it  was  impossible 
to  stop  them,  but  he  determined  that 
the  lovers  should  have  a  little  quiet  talk, 
so  he  called  Mary  to  come  and  sit  be- 
side him,  and  then  asked  Harford  to 
take  the  wheel  while  he  went  aft  to 
examine  the  engine.  From  there  he 
shouted  directions  as  to  the  course  in 
rounding  Brant  Island. 

They  had  thought  of  landing,  but  a 
few  warning  drops  of  rain  threw  Mrs. 
Marsh  into  a  state  of  extreme  appre- 
hension lest  Henry  should  take  cold. 
Henry  was  a  sturdy  lad,  freckled  of  face 
and  forward  in  demeanor,  but  Mrs. 
Marsh  nervously  explained  that  his  was 
a  most  sensitive  organism,  and  she  feared 
he  had  inherited  a  delicate  chest  from 
the  Marsh  side.  So  they  made  for 
home,  the  children  on  the  way  becoming 


206 

very  restless,  and  insisting  on  playing 
"pease-porridge  hot"  with  Aunt  Mary. 
Just  as  they  reached  the  dock  the  rain 
came  down  in  torrents,  and  there  was 
a  wild  scramble  for  the  house,  Henry 
Marsh  nearly  sending  his  mother  into 
hysterics  by  scampering  through  every 
puddle  on  the  way.  When  they  reached 
the  piazza  they  were  thoroughly  soaked, 
and  hastened  to  their  various  rooms, 
after  swallowing  a  dose  of  whiskey-and- 
water  administered  by  Uncle  Chad,  Mrs. 
Marsh  meanwhile  complaining  that  there 
never  was  a  spot  on  the  face  of  the  globe 
so  subject  to  sudden  showers  as  Starling. 
The  rain,  however,  was  a  blessing  in 
disguise,  as,  much  to  Uncle  Chad's  re- 
lief, Mrs.  Marsh  spent  the  evening  in 
her  room,  doctoring  her  son  with  various 
lotions,  liniments,  and  plasters,  which 
she  always  carried  about  with  her. 


20g 

After  dinner  the  storm  cleared  away, 
and  Harford  and  Mary  strolled  down  to 
take  a  look  at  the  proposed  site  for  their 
house.  They  were  talking  earnestly 
over  plans  for  a  tiny  conservatory  here 
and  an  up-stairs  balcony  there,  and  tea 
on  the  piazza,  and  an  Italian  garden, 
and  bay-trees  in  terra-cotta  jars,  and 
various  other  attractive  but  rather  im- 
practicable arrangements,  when  they 
were  disturbed  by  sounds  of  voices,  and 
De  Vinney  and  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Grew  ap- 
proached with  extended  hands,  and  ex- 
plained that  they  had  heard  the  news, 
and  were  just  on  their  way  up  to  the 
house  to  offer  congratulations. 

"  Welcome  to  our  midst !"  said  De 
Vinney  to  Harford,  shaking  his  hand 
repeatedly,  bowing  rapidly,  and  execut- 
ing a  complicated  shuffle  with  his  feet. 
Dr.  Grew,  in  a  feeble  nasal  voice,  said, 


"  Pleased,  'm  sure,"  while  Mrs.  Grew, 
who  was  in  the  way  of  consorting  a 
good  deal  with  summer  boarders,  said 
that  the  engagement  struck  her  as  being 
"perfectly  ullegant?  Harford  and  Mary 
replied  with  becoming  grace,  and  the 
party  of  five  sauntered  back  to  the 
house,  De  Vinney  sounding  Harford  as 
to  his  views  on  the  number  of  saloons 
in  proportion  to  the  total  of  inhabitants, 
the  propriety  of  re-electing  Mr.  Deshler 
to  the  Board  of  Supervisors,  and  other 
topics  of  local  interest. 

After  they  reached  the  house  the  trio 
from  the  village  spent  an  hour  or  two 
in  aimless  desultory  conversation,  and 
at  last  took  their  leave,  after  further  ex- 
pressions of  fervent  congratulation. 

When  the  time  for  saying  good-night 
arrived,  Harford  found  Miller  and  Uncle 
Chad  with  their  heads  together  over  the 


211 


library  table,  which    was   covered  with 

rough  sketches  of  pjans,  angrily  discuss- 

i 

ing  whether  his  new  house  should  face 
due  south  or  southeast.  Two  hours 
later  he  was  awakened  by  hearing  Mrs. 
Miller  remonstrating  with  them  over 
the  stairs :  they  were  keeping  Mrs. 
Marsh  awake,  and  did  they  know  what 
time  it  was,  and  would  they  ever  stop 
talking  ? 


THE    WEDDING 


X 

THE  preparations  for  Mary's  wedding 
naturally  raised  a  tremendous  stir  in  the 
Miller  household,  and  the  young  couple 
soon  found  that  they  were  to  have  no 
voice  in  the  final  arrangements.  Mr. 

O 

Miller,  after  consulting  with  every  tick- 
et agent,  conductor,  and  brakeman  on 
the  railroad,  made  out  a  dozen  different 
schedules  for  trains  for  the  transporta- 
tion of  the  guests,  and  then  found  that 
his  wife  had  settled  the  matter  two  weeks 
before,  and  was  having  the  invitations 
engraved,  with  cards  giving  full  direc- 
tions about  trains,  hours,  and  so  forth. 
Uncle  Chad  bustled  about  making  sug- 
gestions, which  Mrs.  Miller  passed  by 


216 


unheeded.  She  was  calmly  sure  of  her 
own  superior  knowledge  about  wedding 
celebrations,  and  felt  strong  to  grapple 
with  the  subject  unaided  by  the  men  of 
the  family. 

The  day  before  the  wedding  Uncle 
Chad  took  Mary  aside  and  handed  her 
a  large  blue  envelope  which  contained  a 
deed  of  the  land  for  her  new  home  and 
a  number  of  securities.  He  was  sorry, 
he  said,  that  his  present  was  not  more 
showy,  but  explained  apologetically  that 
it  was  not  a  bad  thing  for  young  people 
to  start  in  life  backed  up  by  "  the  ele- 
gant simplicity  of  the  three-per-cents." 

They  had  a  fine  day  for  the  wedding. 
Uncle  Chad,  De  Vinney,  and  little  Ma- 
rian wept  steadily  through  the  ceremony 
in  the  church,  but  afterwards  made  up 
for  it  by  noisy  demonstrations  of  joy 
at  the  reception.  Dick  Parker,  Har- 


219 

ford's  friend  from  Wyoming,  a  retiring 
bronzed  young  man  of  stalwart  frame, 
acted  as  best  man,  and  was  much  dis- 
concerted by  Miss  Lavinia  Miller's  at- 
tentions. She  followed  him  about  with 
a  cold  and  critical  eye,  and,  with  her 
head  on  one  side,  walked  round  him  and 
studied  him  from  various  points,  with  a 
view  to  using  his  type  for  some  of  her 
illustrations. 

Mr.  Johnstone  Leigh,  faultlessly  at- 
tired, leaned  gloomily  against  one  of  the 
piazza  posts,  occasionally  bowing  cere- 
moniously to  the  passers-by,  while  Mr. 
Billy  Merriam  circulated  about  among 
the  guests,  explaining  to  each  one  of  his 
friends  that  this  was  one  of  the  slickest 
picnics  he  ever  was  to. 

De  Vinney  presented  to  the  bride  a 
photographic  group  of  the  hook-and-lad- 
der  company,  framed  in  black  walnut 


with 'gilt  scrolls,  and  told  her  that  he 
had  arranged  for  the  Starling  Bicycle 
Brigade  to  escort  the  bride  and  groom 
to  the  station,  the  wheels  to  be  decorat- 
ed with  white  wedding  -  favors.  This 
ceremony  was  with  difficulty  averted  at 
the  last  moment.  Tommy  Mason,  sur- 
rounded by  the  young  cousins,  sang  all 
the  latest  music-hall  songs  ;  and  Uncle 
Chad,  who  had  had  several  glasses  of 
some  fine  Hector  Madeira  which  he  had 
reserved  for  Mary's  wedding,  trolled  out 
in  his  deepest  bass,  "In  good  old  Col- 
ony Days,"  and,  to  the  great  delight  of 
the  children,  wound  up  by  leading  the 
Virginia  Reel  on  the  lawn,  and  then 
dancing  the  Sailor's  Hornpipe  in  great 
shape. 

Miller  scurried  about  among  the  car- 
riages, gave  directions  to  the  waiters, 
looked  at  his  watch  a  great  many  times, 


THE    TOAST 


223 

and,  aided  by  Miss  Lavinia  and  Pro- 
fessor Judd,  took  various  photographic 
views  of  the  bridal  party.  Finally,  amid 
loud  cheers  and  the  usual  rice  and  slip- 
pers, Harford  and  his  bride  drove  away, 
with  little  Jack  seated  in  triumph  on  the 
box  by  the  coachman,  holding  the  whip, 
and  Henry  Marsh  hanging  on  behind, 
followed  at  a  distance  by  his  shrieking 
mother. 

When  the  Miller  family  began  to  tire 
of  talking  about  the  wedding,  they 
turned  their  attention  to  the  new  house, 
and  reopened  the  bitter  and  excited 
controversy  which  had  been  lulled  to 
rest  during  the  festivities.  Miller  was 
sure  it  should  face  southeast.  "  Warm 
in  winter,  cool  in  summer;  chimney 
will  draw  better,  you  know;  no  trouble 
about  the  drainage  ;  get  your  plumbing 
away  from  your  windows ;  no  danger  of 


224 

pipes  freezing ;  and  then,  as  to  the 
sewer — " 

"  Ah  !"  said  Judd,  sententiously,  "  that 
brings  us  to  a  very  nice  question.  Ex- 
actly what  is  a  sewer  ?" 

This  was  a  poser,  and  the  discussion 
was  interrupted  for  a  time  while  the  Pro- 
fessor sketched  the  history  of  sewers, 
and  their  bearing  upon  the  welfare  of 
the  human  race  from  the  earliest  times 
to  the  present  day. 

Miss  Lavinia  hoped  that,  whatever 
else  they  did,  they  would  not  fail  to 
place  the  house  so  as  to  secure  that 
lovely  view  of  the  water  through  the 
cedar -trees,  which  was  so  like  Puvis  de 
Chavannes. 

Miller  laughed  derisively  at  this  last 
suggestion.  "  That  is  absolutely  impos- 
sible," said  he,  "for  the  simple  reason, 
my  dear  Lavinia,  that  if  your  house 


f 


THE   BKllJE 


227 


fronted  that  way,  you  would  have  your 
drying-ground  and  kerosene -kennel  in 
full  view  of  every  one  approaching  it." 

"  Why  not  build  a  trellis  around 
them  ?"  interposed  Uncle  Chad. 

"  Oh  yes ;  covered  with  Japanese  ivy 
and  clematis,"  Miss  Lavinia  suggested, 
"  with  bunchy  trees  sticking  out  over 
the  top.  It  would  be  very  decorative." 

"  Well,  never  mind  about  the  front 
now,"  said  Mrs.  Miller,  looking  up  from 
her  knitting.  "  Where  do  you  propose 
to  put  Mary's  linen-closet  ?" 

This  suggested  another  line  of  thought, 
which  was  taken  up  and  eagerly  dis- 
cussed, every  one  expressing  a  different 
opinion.  When  the  house  was  at  last 
finished  it  was  a  model  cottage,  thanks 
to  the  good  taste  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Har- 
ford,  and  to  Mrs.  Miller's  talent  for  mak- 
ing things  comfortable,  and  Mr.  Miller's 


228 

knowledge  of  prosaic  details,  and  last, 
but  not  least,  to  the  severely  watchful 
eye  of  Uncle  Chad. 

After  Harford's  return  from  his  wed- 
ding-trip, he  found  himself  becoming 
daily  more  divorced  from  the  joys  of 
town  and  more  enthusiastic  over  the 
benefits  of  suburban  residence.  Un- 
consciously he  drifted  into  the  habit  of 
drawing  the  long-bow  on  the  all-absorb- 
ing topic  of  the  thermometer,  and  un- 
derrating the  effectiveness  of  the  mos- 
quitoes in  his  neighborhood.  One  day 
he  happened  into  the  club  —  his  first 
visit  there  since  his  marriage  —  and 
dropped  in  a  chair  among  a  number  of 
his  former  pals. 

"  Hallo,  Harford !"  said  one ;  "  been 
getting  married,  I  hear,  and  giving  us 
the  cold  shake.' 


"MARY  SMILINGLY  AWAITED  HIM" 


231 

"  Yes,"  said  Harford,  "  married  and 
settled  down  in  the  country.  Nothing 
like  it,  my  boy  ;  nothing  like  it !" 

"  Which  ?  Marriage  or  the  coun- 
try?" 

"  Why,  both ;  but,  indeed,  the  coun- 
try isn't  as  black  as  it's  painted.  In  the 
summer  you  get  out  of  this  beastly  hot 
town — have  the  water  right  at  your  el- 
bow —  sailing,  rowing,  fishing,  swim- 
ming, tennis — everything." 

"  Nice  in  winter,  I  suppose?" 

"  Well — er — "  (rather  feebly)  "  not  so 
bad.  You  get  used  to  it.  Skating  and 
so  forth,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  I  know  —  especially  the  '  so 
forth.'  How  long  does  it  take  you  to 
get  to  Eversofar,  or  whatever  the  name 
of  the  place  is  ?" 

"  Well,  do  you  mean  from  the  office  to 
my  house,  or — ?" 


232 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  an  exact  mathe- 
matical statement.  About  how  long  ?" 

"  About  an  hour  and  thirteen  min- 
utes," said  Harford,  looking  at  his 
watch,  "  and,  by  George !  I  must  run 
pretty  soon,  too." 

"  Have  your  regular  seat  at  the  whist 
table  in  the  smoking-car,  I  suppose, 
Bill  ?"  said  one  of  the  party. 

Harford  laughed,  but  not  very  heart- 
ily. 

"  And  do  you  belong  to  one  of  the 
first  families  of  the  town  as  you  drive 
in  ?"  said  another. 

"  Any  land  for  sale  in  the  park  near 
you  ?"  said  another. 

Harford  listened  to  them  for  a  while, 
wondering  how  he  could  have  found 
these  men  so  agreeable  a  few  months 
ago,  and  then  made  a  dash  for  his  train, 
out  of  breath  and  rather  dishevelled,  but 


235 

happy  in  the  prospect  of  finding  him- 
self once  more  in  a  sympathetic  atmos- 
phere. On  the  way  from  the  train  he 
stopped  at  the  office  of  De  Vinney  & 
Eddy  to  sign  a  petition,  to  be  present- 
ed by  the  residents  of  Starling  to  the 
traffic -manager  of  the  C.  L.  and  S.  L. 
Railroad,  protesting  against  the  aboli- 
tion of  the  8.13  train.  At  home  he 
found  Mary  smilingly  awaiting  him  on 
the  piazza,  and  at  dinner  that  night  he 
told  her,  with  a  degree  of  seriousness 
that  only  a  young  married  man  can  as- 
sume, that  those  fellows  at  the  club  were 
a  frothy  lot;  good  enough  sort  of  fel- 
lows, of  course,  but  leading  a  purpose- 
less existence.  As  for  Harford  himself, 
he  was  quite  satisfied  that  he  and  Mary 
had  made  no  mistake  in  deciding  to  set- 
tle out  of  town. 


THE   END 


BY  JOHN  KENDRICK  BANGS 


A  HOUSE-BOAT  ON  THE  STYX.     Being  Some  Account 
of  the  Divers  Doings  of  the  Associated  Shades.     Il- 
lustrated.    16mo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  25. 
Well  worth  reading.  ...  It  Is  full  of  genuine  crisp  humor. 
It  is  the  best  work  of  length  Mr.  Bangs  lias  yet  done,  and  he 
is  to  be  congratulated. — N.  Y.  Mail  and  Express. 

MR.  BONAPARTE  OF  CORSICA.     Illustrated  by  H.  W. 
McViCKAR.     16mo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  25. 

Mr.  Bangs  is  probably  the  generator  of  more  hearty,  health- 
ful, purely  good-humored  laughs  than  any  other  half-dozen 
men  of  our  country  to-day. — Interior,  Chicago. 

THE  IDIOT.   Illustrated.  16mo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  00. 
"The  Idiot"  continues  to  be  as  amusing  and  as   trium- 
phantly bright  in  the  volume  called  after  his  name  as  in 
"  Coffee  and  Repartee."— Evangelist,  N.  Y. 

THE  WATER  GHOST,  and  Others.     Illustrated.    16mo, 

Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  25. 

The  funny  side  of  the  ghost  genre  is  brought  out  with  orig- 
inalityj  and,  considering  the  morbidity  that  surrounds  the  sub- 
ject, it  is  a  wholesome  thing  to  offer  the  public  a  series  of 
tales  letting  in  the  sunlight  of  laughter. — Hartford  Oourant. 

THREE  WEEKS  IN  POLITICS.    Illustrated.    32mo,  Cloth, 
Ornamental,  50  cents. 

He  who  can  read  this  narrative  of  a  campaigner's  trials  with- 
out laughing  must  be  a  stoic  indeed. — Philadelphia  Bulletin. 

COFFEE  AND  REPARTEE.     Illustrated.    32mo,  Cloth,  Or- 
namental, 50  cents. 

Is  delightfully  free  from  conventionality ;  is  breezy,  witty, 
and  possessed  of  an  originality  both  genial  and  refreshing. — 
Saturday  Evening  Gazette,  Boston. 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK 

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BY   MARIA    LOUISE    POOL 

AGAINST  HUMAN  NATURE.     A  Novel.     Post  8vo,  Cloth, 

Ornamental,  $1  25. 

The  contrasts  of  Northern  and  Southern  temperament  and 
manners  .  .  .  are  brought  out  with  a  fidelity  that  reveals  intel- 
ligent acquaintance  and  trained  powers  of  observation.  This 
novel  is  far  above  the  average. —  Watchman,  Boston. 

OUT  OP  STEP.    A  Novel.     Post  8vo.  Cloth,  Ornamental, 

$1  25. 

An  exceedingly  interesting  story,  with  elements  of  both  trag- 
edy and  comedy  wonderfully  involved. — ^Philadelphia  Telegraph. 

THE  Two  SALOMES.     A  Novel.     Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Orna- 
mental, $1  25. 

The  character  conceptions  of  the  story  are  all  good  and  well 
wrought  out,  the  situations  are  all  logical  and  expressive,  and 
the  interest  in  the  problem  keeps  fresh. — Providence  Journal. 

KATHARINE  NORTH.     A  Novel.     Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Orna- 
mental, $1  25. 

From  an  artistic  and  literary  standpoint,  Miss  Pool's  best 
work.  .  .  .  The  story  is  an  intensely  interesting  one,  and  is 
most  skilfully  constructed. — Boston  Traveller. 

MRS.   KEATS   BRADFORD.      A  Novel.     Post  8vo,  Cloth, 

Ornamental,  $1  25. 

Miss  Pool's  novels  have  the  characteristic  qualities  of  Ameri- 
can life.  .  .  .  The  author  is  on  her  own  ground,  instinct  with 
American  feeling  and  purpose. — N.  Y.  Tribune. 

HOWENY  IN  BOSTON.     A  Novel.     Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Orna- 
mental, $1  25. 

A  very  delicately  drawn  story  in  all  particulars.  ...  It  is  ex- 
cellent art  and  rare  entertainment. — N.  Y.  Sun. 

DALLY.     A  Novel.    Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  25  ; 
Paper,  50  cents. 

There  is  not  a  lay  figure  in  the  book ;  all  are  fiesh-and-blood 
creations.  — Philadelphia  Ledger. 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER   &   BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

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FARMING 

By  R.  K.  MUNKITTRICK.     Illustrations  by  A.  B.  FROST, 
printed  in  Tint.     8vo,  Embossed  Cover,  $1  50. 

All  the  fun  that  amateur  farmers,  with  full  purses  and  fuller 
brains,  but  no  practical  knowledge  of  the  business,  have  ever 
had,  would  not  fill  a  work  so  full  of  humorous  description  as 
we  have  here,  largely,  we  are  sure,  from  the  imagination  of 
this  well-known  writer.  It  is  all  good,  but  some  parts  of  it 
are  "  perfectly  delicious." — -N.  Y.  Journal  of  Commerce. 

The  book  reveals  the  experiences  of  an  amateur  farmer,  and 
is  brimful  of  fun,  of  which  the  humor  is  none  the  less  fine  be- 
cause it  is  quiet.  .  .  .  Mr.  Munkittrick's  story  is  delightfully 
and  wittily  told,  and  it  will  be  especially  enjoyed  by  those  who 
have  ventured  upon  the  same  experiment  that  forms  the  sub- 
ject of  his  book. — Saturday  Evening  Gazette,  Boston. 

We  do  not  know  which  is  more  amusing,  the  pictures  or  the 
text  of  this  admirable  burlesque  upon  farming.  Every  phase 
of  farm  life  has  its  humorous  side,  and  this  author  has  seen 
and  recorded  them  all. —  Observer,  N.  Y. 

Text  and  illustrations  will  be  sure  to  command  the  appro- 
bation of  the  discriminating  reader.  There  is  no  end  of  fun 
in  them,  and  the  fun  is  of  an  admirable  kind.  To  say  whim- 
sical things  in  a  serious  fashion  is  an  art  of  which  Mr.  Mun- 
kittrick  is  a  master,  and  Mr.  Frost's  pencil,  as  everybody 
knows,  turns  out  some  of  the  most  amusing  pictures  of  the 
day.—JV.  Y.  Sun. 

Neither  in  the  illustrations  nor  in  the  writing  is  there  a 
single  thing  overdone.  One  does  not  feel  that  either  artist  is 
straining  to  make  the  reader  chuckle,  and  so  one  chuckles  the 
more. — Zion's  Herald,  Boston. 

It  is  not  only  told  with  several  good  laughs  on  every  page, 
but  so  artistically  and  aptly  illustrated  as  to  please  the  eye. — 
Inter-Ocean,  Chicago. 

Frost's  illustrations  are  no  end  funny,  immensely  entertain- 
ing, and  their  humor  is  of  that  sweet  and  wholesome  sort  that 
gives  only  pleasure  and  no  pain. — Philadelphia  Telegraph. 


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HARPER'S   AMERICAN  ESSAYISTS 


OTHER  TIMES  AND  OTHEE  SEASONS.     By  LAU- 

RKNCE   HUTTON. 

A  LITTLE  ENGLISH  GALLERY.  By  LOUISE  IMO- 
GEN GUINEY. 

LITERARY     AND     SOCIAL     SILHOUETTES.       By 

HJALMAR  HJORTH  BOYESEN. 
STUDIES  OF  THE  STAGE.   By  BRANDER  MATTHEWS. 

AMERICANISMS  AND  BRITICISMS,  with  Other  Es- 
says 011  Other  Isms.  By  BRANDER  MATTHEWS. 

AS  WE  GO.  By  CHARLES  DUDLEY  WARNER.  With 
Illustrations. 

AS     WE     WERE     SAYING.      By  CHARLES  DUDLEY 

WARNER.     With  Illustrations. 
FROM   THE    EASY    CHAIR.     By  GEORGE  WILLIAM 

CURTIS. 

FROM  THE  EASY  CHAIR.  Second  Series.  By  GBORGE 

WILLIAM  CURTIS. 
FROM  THE  EASY  CHAIR.  Third  Series.  By  GEORGE 

WILLIAM  CURTIS. 
CRITICISM  AND  FICTION.  By  WILLIAM  DEAN 

HOWELLS. 

FROM  THE  BOOKS  OF  LAURENCE  HUTTON. 
CONCERNING  ALL  OF  US.   By  THOMAS  WENT- 

WORTH   HlGGlNSON. 

THE  WORK  OF  JOHN  RUSKIN.  By  CHARLES 
WALDSTEIN. 

PICTURE  AND  TEXT.  By  HENRY  JAMES.  With 
Illustrations. 

16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00  each.     Complete  Sets,  in  White  ahd  Gold, 
$1  25  a  Volume. 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER   &   BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

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THE    ODD    NUMBER    SERIES 

16mo,  Cloth,  Ornamental 


DONA  PERFECTA.  By  B.  PEREZ  GALDOS.  Translated  by 
MARY  J.  SERRANO.  With  Portrait.  $1  00. 

PARISIAN  POINTS  OF  VIEW.  Nine  Tales  by  LUDOVIC 
HALEVY.  Translated  by  EDITH  V.  B.  MATTHEWS.  With 
Portrait.  $1  00. 

PAME  CARE.  By  HERMANN  SUDERMANN.  Translated  by 
BERTHA  OVERBECK.  With  Portrait.  $1  00. 

TALES  OF  TWO  COUNTRIES.  By  ALEXANDER  KIELLAND. 
Translated  by  WJLLIAM  ARCHER.  With  Portrait.  $1  00. 

TEN  TALES  BY  FRAN£OIS  COPPEE.  Translated  by  WAL- 
TER LEARNED.  With  Portrait  and  50  Illustrations  by  A.  E. 
STERNER.  $1  25. 

MODERN  GHOSTS.  Selected  and  Translated  from  the  Works 
of  GUY  DE  MAUPASSANT,  PEDRO  ANTONIO  PE  ALAR90N,  ALEX- 
ANDER KIELLAND,  and  Others,.  $1  00. 

THE  HOUSE  BY  THE  MEDLAR-TREE.  By  GIOVANNI  VERGA. 
Translated  from  the  Italian  by  MARY  A.  CRAIG.  $1  00. 

PASTELS  IN  PROSE.  Translated  by  STUART  MERRILL.  150 
Illustrations  by  H.  W.  MoVicKAR.  '$1  25. 

MARIA:  A  South  American  Romance.  By  JORGE  ISAACS. 
Translated  by  ROLLO  OGDEN.  $1  00. 

THE  ODD  NUMBER.  Thirteen  Tales  by  GUY  DE  MAUPASSANT. 
The  Translation  by  JONATHAN  STURGES.  With  Portrait.  $1  00. 

PASTELS  IN  PROSE,  COFFEE'S  TALES,  and  THE  ODD  NUMBER — 
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the  publishers,  postage  prepaid,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


WILLIAM  BLACK'S   NOVELS 


LIBRARY  EDITION 

Mr.  Black  knows  so  well  just  what  to  describe,  and  to  what 
length,  that  the  scenery  of  his  novels — by  comparison  with  that 
of  many  we  are  obliged  to  read — seems  to  have  been  freshened 
by  soft  spring  rains.  His  painting  of  character,  his  conversa- 
tions and  situations,  are  never  strongly  dramatic  and  exciting, 
but  they  are  thoroughly  good.  He  never  gives  us  a  tame  or  a 
tiresome  chapter,  and  this  is  something  for  which  readers  will 
be  profoundly  grateful. — JV.  Y.  Tribune. 

A  DAUGHTER  OF  HETH. 

A  PRINCESS  OP  THULB. 

DONALD  ROSS  OF  HEIMRA. 

GREEN  PASTURES  AJSTD  PIC- 
CADILLY. 

IN  FAR  LOCHABER. 

IN  SILK  ATTIRE. 

JUDITH  SHAKESPEARE.  II- 
lustrated. 

KILMENY. 

MACLEOD  OF  DARE,  nra, 

MADCAP  VIOLET. 

PRINCE  FORTUNATUS.    Ill'd. 


STAND  FAST,  CRAIG -ROYS- 
TON  t  Illustrated, 

SUNRISE. 

THAT  BEAUTIFUL  WRETCH. 
Illustrated. 

THE  MAGIC  INK,  AND  OTH- 
ER STORIES.  Illustrated. 

THE  STRANGE  ADVENTURES 
OF  A  HOUSE-BOAT.  Ill'd. 

THE  STRANGE  ADVENTURES 
OF  A  PHAETON. 

THREE  FEATHERS. 

WHITE  HEATHER. 

WHITE  WINGS.    Illustrated. 

YOLANDE.    Illustrated. 


SABINA  ZEMBRA. 
8HANDON  BELLS.    Illustrated. 

12mo,  Cloth,  $1  25  per  volume. 

(VOLFENBERG.— THE   HANDSOME   HUMES. 

Illustrated.    12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50  per  volume. 

HIGHLAND  COUSINS. 

Illustrated.    12mo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  75. 

Complete  Sets,  26  volumes,  Cloth,  $30  00 ;  Half  Calf,  $57  00. 


PUBLISHED  BY  HAEPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

;8®~  The  above  works  are  for  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  will  be  sent  by 
the  publishers,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the  United  States,  Canada,  or 
Mexico,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  L 


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